


The Good Luck Gang

by shibbi



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - High School, Implied Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, M/M, and fluffy shit, and general 1d shenanigans, graphic description of violence in later chapters, in which zayn is a badass, niall is new, there's violence and things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2014-01-14
Packaged: 2018-01-08 17:16:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 30,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1135326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shibbi/pseuds/shibbi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall Horan is new at Cowell Preparatory Academy.  A lucky housing placement has him rooming with Liam Payne and Zayn Malik, best friends of Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson, the resident pranksters. His first semester is filled with the excitement of new friends, risky business, and a promising new relationship. </p><p>or</p><p>Twenty chapters of 1d being the little shits they would be if they ever went to a boarding school together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

"Liam!" His head snapped up at the sound of his name, just in time to see Louis barreling toward him, arms outstretched. Harry followed behind, smiling and waving. Liam braced himself for impact and caught the slim boy as he jumped into his arms.

"Hello to you too Louis," he smiled. 

School had started again. It had been months since he had last seen his friends and he was ecstatic. He embraced Harry tightly before letting him go and ruffling his hair. He slung an arm around his shoulders and smiled.

"What have you guys been up to?"

"Louis stayed with me this passed week so his mom wouldn’t have to drive so far today." Harry explained as they made their way toward the common room of Martin, the building where their level slept. They had met last year in the Stevenson building when Louis had made his grand entrance, riding through the halls on a tricycle, stealing young Harry’s boxers and pinning them to a stick like a flag, waving it about. Liam had stepped from his bedroom to see what the commotion was about to be nearly run over by the boxer-waving Doncaster lad. Luckily, he had jumped out of the way. Zayn Malik, his roommate, wasn’t quite so lucky. The two had toppled over, Louis laughing and Zayn swearing, trying to untangle himself from the tricycle wheels. Harry had caught up, out of breath and laughing, motioning down the hall.

"Prefects!" He had managed to gasp out. 

Liam didn’t know what had made him push the three into his room and close the door, covering for them and pointing the other way, but whatever it was, he was glad he had. He was a pretty easygoing guy, he made friends pretty easily, but he never could have asked for better friends than the ones he made that day. Granted, he often had to bail Harry and Louis out of trouble, and occasionally Zayn as well, but it was worth it. Ok, so maybe more than just occasionally.

"Vas happenin’ boys?" Zayn yelled, setting down his suitcase and dropping his duffle bag from his shoulder, opening his arms and smiling. Harry wiggled out from under Liam’s arm and ran after Louis into Zayn’s embrace, Liam close behind. The Bradford boy nearly fell over at the impact of the three boys colliding into his chest.

"The gang’s together at last!" Louis yelled, clinging to Zayn’s back like a monkey. Liam picked up the duffel bag and hooked it on his shoulder, Harry grabbing the suitcase. 

"Come on," Liam said. "Let’s get Zayn’s stuff to the room before the meeting."

The first week of school at Cowell Preparatory Academy consisted of meetings and activities to help the boys get back into the groove of going to a boarding school, as well as getting to know any new students. Liam knew Harry and Louis had used the last week in Holmes Chapel to come up with a plethora of pranks to play on anyone new, it was their favourite pass-time.   
They climbed the wide staircase, talking about their summer, Zayn still carrying Louis. but when they turned the corner they stopped. Four large men in moving uniforms stood outside their room, talking softly. They stopped as the four boys approached, Louis sliding off his friend’s back.

"What’s going on?" Liam asked.

"We just had to put another bed in the room, no problem. You other room mate is already settling in." The largest of the men spoke, smiling and patting Liam on the shoulder before excusing himself and the rest of the group. Liam looked at the other boys quizzically. He hadn’t been told about another roommate or another bed being moved in. 

He walked to the door and pushed it open, bracing himself. The room looked nearly the same but a bed had been added above his own and another dresser stood on the far wall. A blonde boy was crouched over his suitcase, back to the door.  
"Ehem," Liam cleared his throat. The boy stood up and turned around quickly, nearly falling over. He had a huge smile on his face, his white teeth small and crooked, his blue eyes sparkling. He held out one of his hands and closed the space between them. Liam eyed the hand before taking it cautiously, the boy squeezing back and pumping it up and down.

"I’m Niall," he introduced, his Irish accent thick. He moved on and shook all four boys’ hands, smiling the whole time. "I’m the new guy."

Liam glanced back to see Louis and Harry eyeing each other with those mischievous looks in their eyes. This poor kid had no idea what was coming his way.


	2. The Actual Story bits

"Why are you in our room?" Zayn asked, walking forward and sitting on the single bed, claiming his territory. The blonde boy continued to smile as he answered.

"There weren't enough rooms I guess. They accepted one more than they thought for our level." He shrugged and walked back to his suitcase. Liam watched him, carefree and whistling.

"You don’t have time to unpack," Liam warned him. "We’re supposed to be in the Common Room for the introductory meeting."

"Oh," Niall said, eyebrows furrowing. "I didn't know."

Louis crossed the room and threw his arm around the Irishman’s shoulders.

"Don’t worry babe," he reassured him, patting his head. "We’ll take care of you, won’t we Liam?"

Liam nodded. The oldest boy steered Niall to the door, smiling, Harry close behind. Zayn stood up from the bed and joined his roommate.

"As long as he’s not a snitch I’m ok with him. I think he seems pretty fun." Zayn turned his head to look at Liam, a small smile tugging at his lips. Liam agreed. Maybe this was a good thing. Change was good, right? And Louis seemed quite taken with him. Not to mention, every group needs and Irishman.

The boys made their way down the stairs to the commons, greeting old friends as they passed by. Louis kept his arm around Niall’s shoulders, introducing him to various boys, warning him which to stay away from, telling him all the little secrets about the boysat drunken parties, everything Louis knew, Niall was slowly learning as well.

The boys piled onto a couch, Zayn and Liam balancing on the arms while the other three squeezed together on the seat. A large bald man in a tan tweed jacket and burgundy turtleneck stood at the far side of the room. He cleared his throat loudly, calling the attention of the thirty or so boys crowded in the room. The noise died down almost immediately, the boys knowing better than to make this man angry.

"Good morning boys. For those of you who are new, I’m Professor Malcom," his reedy voice sliced through the air, contrasting his large stature. Louis put a hand over Niall’s mouth as the boy nearly laughed out loud at the sound. The professor continued, oblivious. "I am the warden of your level and your building. You are to come to me with any problems you may have that may concern the well fare of others or the school, but not if they concern only your ‘happiness’."

The man used airquotes around the last word. His chins wobbled as he talked and his small, watery eyes roamed around the room, watching each boy individually as if staring into their very soul. He was known for being a jackass, never fair and completely unreliable. He was most likely the main reason for Louis and Harry becoming a kind of underground business for everything prohibited. They snuck in everything from candy to alcohol and sold it right under the fat man’s nose. Made a mint, as well as earning a distinct place in the ranks of the school and loads of blackmail to hold over everyone’s heads. Not that they did. They were nice guys and never turned their back on one of the boys, but they could, if they so chose.

Louis leaned over and whispered something in the new boy’s ear, making him laugh, muffled around the older boy’s hand. Liam reached out his hand and slapped Louis on the back of the head, giving him “the look.” Both boys on the couch snickered but ceased their whispering. The man at the front of the room had stopped talking, motioning to the wall where the week’s activities were listed. Fortunately he had learned from his years working at the boy’s boarding school to get out of the way as soon as possible.

The mass of boys surged forward, eager to sign up for the same activities as their friends, and not get stuck alone at a station with puzzles or wordfinds. The boys remained sitting, all but Zayn, who calmly made his way through the crowd, toward the table, prepared to write them all in the same slot.

The crowd of over-excited boys parted for him like the Red Sea. He had acquired a reputation last year that left him a bit of respect and fear from all the boys but his three best friends, and now Niall.

The previous year Louis and Harry had gotten into a spot of trouble with a group of “super seniors,” boys who had been in their final year at Cowell Prep for quite some time. The trouble makers had been young and niave, not knowing just how dangerous the older boys actually were. Dropping water balloons filled with blue-dyed yogurt on the group from the roof of the science building hadn’t been the most thought out of their plans.

Liam could talk them out of nearly anything when an adult was involved, but when the situation included 20 year old thugs, they were helpless, or so they thought.The two boys had jumped the gap to the roof of their dorm building, hoping to hide from the meatheads currently storming up the stairs, covered in blue yogurt. Louis and Harry hid behind a large, humming, metal box, most likely a generator, shaking in their boots- though they would never admit it- when the group burst through the door, shouting, onto the roof.

But instead of finding the pranksters, they found Zayn, smoking a fag, looking out over the campus. Zayn was usually a mild tempered individual, rarely known to lose his cool. Despite thise, the thugs had managed to do something to upset him and he retaliated, turning the group on their heels and having them running back down the stairs like misbehaving puppies with their tails between their legs. No one knows what the Bradford boy did to them that day and he never said, mysteriously silent whenever the subject was brought up. The boys stopped asking.

Now the students of Cowell Prep respected the boy, moving aside to let him through and choose for himself and his friends first. Niall must have noticed because Louis had his storytelling face on, animated and whispering excitedly. Hopefully he remembered to warn Niall not to ask Zayn about it.

Zayn returned, smiling.

"Paintball," he said. The boys on the couch erupted in cheers. Paintball was the best possible option on the activity sheets, always the first to be filled. There were only ten positions for each building, five on each team.

"We have a full team this year,"" Harry commented. "We won’t need to get a loner from this bunch."

He thrust a thumb over his shoulder and smirked. Liam reached over and ruffled Niall’s blonde locks.

"Looks like you’re already part of the gang. I hope you’re good at paintball." Liam smiled at their newly-made friend, obviously ecstatic to be included.

\-----

"Cover me," Zayn whispered to Niall as they crouched behind a pile of hay bales. His partner nodded, glancing over his left shoulder. The darker boy peeked around once before rolling swiftly behind the adjacent obstacle, sheilding him from the view of their opponents.

The boys had woken up, all five ready for the exciting competition ahead of them. They had nearly forgotten to put clothes on before rushing downstairs and to the dining hall for breakfast. If their team won against the other team from their building today, they stayed in to play the next day against a new team. If they lost, they were sent to the library and forced to solve puzzles. Silently.

Niall glanced around the hay bales again, gun trained closely on the edge of the barrel several meters away, sensing movement. He sent a signal to Zayn, motioning for him to wait. His finger rested lightly on the trigger, slowly squeezing, ready to fire. Time seemed to slow. He felt the trigger click, signalling the shot just as a head popped around the barrel, Liam. Niall shoved the gun in the air, narrowly avoiding his teammate.

"You just gave away our position," Zayn whispered hotly. Niall turned his head away, ashamed, but as he did he noticed a member of the opposing team with a red splatter of paint on the visor of his helmet.

"Nice shot newbie," Louis whispered, joining them with Harry at his heels, crouching low.

"Right on the visor, and through that tiny crack as well," the curly haired boy added enthusiastically. Liam appeared, visor up and smiling beside Zayn.

"Alright then," he laughed quietly. "Looks like we’ve got a winning team this year."

He winked at Niall whose face flushed red in embarrassment and gratitude. Only Zayn knew the shot had been a complete accident, merely the result of what could have been a terrible mistake. But the tan boy remained silent, keeping that embarrassing bit of information tucked away, hopfully not to be used as blackmail for another day.

*SPLAT*

A green dot appeared on the tall slab of metal that rose from the ground in front of them. They exchanged quick glances before nodding, Louis and Harry disappearing to their left and Zayn to their right, leaving Liam and Niall alone.

"Ok," Liam whispered, rolling to sit beside him and pushing the Irishman’s visor up for better communication. "We call this one the Cat and Mouse, got it?"

Niall nodded.

"Usually our loner is completely useless, so this rarely works, but maybe with your sharp shot we’ll actually be successful." He paused, glancing around and checking his watch. "In approximately 45 seconds Louis will run through the center of the field to weed out the other team. Harry will cover the East side and Zayn the North. Usually I cover this last half alone, but we’ve got you this year so I’m going West, you have South. Got it?"

Niall nodded again.

"There’s only four left for the other team, so I bet we could each get one. Good luck." The boy smiled and patted Niall’s shoulder before slapping down his visor and rolling away, leaving Niall alone.

'Breathe,' he told himself. 'Just breathe.'

A shout rang through the air from somewhere behind him. He whipped around, peeking his head over the top of his haybale to see Louis standing atop a large wooden crate, shaking his butt in the air.

"I see your hiding places, my darlings," He mocked dancing and looking around, one hand shielding his eyes from the sun, uselessly. He crouched low and pointed. "Here’s one!"

He jumped from the top of the box to another, narrowly avoiding a green paintball. Zayn must have been in position because a member of the other team instantaneously stood, a red splatter against the side of his helmet, facing North. He kicked Louis’s box and flipped him off, earning him a laugh from the good-natured boy.

Only three from the other team remained. Perhaps Niall wouldn’t have to shoot anyone, he already hit one target. There was one for each of them, right?

"Louis!" He heard Harry’s voice shout. The larger boy stood from his spot and jumped in front of his best friend, receiving a red paintball directly to the chest from half a meter away. The blast caused him to lose his balance and topple back against Louis, both tumbling to the ground. Niall didn’t think, he whipped out his gun with one hand, cocked it to the side, and pulled the trigger. The force threw his arm back, smashing his hand between his gun and the metal slab emerging from the ground behind him.  
"Shit," he muttered and rubbed it through the glove.

"You’re a monster!" He heard Louis shout dramatically at the boy walking from the field, red streak grazing his arm. The boy had ripped off his helmet and glared at the two boys on the ground. Louis gave Harry a peck on the forehead and crawled away swiftly into a rubber tube, disappearing from sight.

"Either you’re really good, or really lucky," Liam chuckled behind him, his deep voice rumbling. Niall started, not having heard him arrive.

"Lucky, I guess," he replied. "I AM Irish."

The broader boy smiled before looking concerned at the other boy’s hand.

"I smashed it when I shot the last guy," he explained. "I only used one hand, too much kick."

Liam removed his gloves with his teeth and took the injured hand in his, gently removing the glove that seemed a little too snug. With a slight struggle, hand inside was revealed as red and slightly swollen. Niall hissed as Liam squeezed his fingers, checking if anything was broken.

"You shot that with one hand and hit your target?" Liam sounded amazing, stroking Niall’s hand with his own.

"And my hand," he chuckled.

*SPLAT*

Another from the other team stalked off the field, breaking the moment.

"That would be Zayn," Liam explained, dropping his hands. His face was slightly flushed, hidden by most of his helmet. "He likes to get them in the helmet."

"That just leaves one."

Liam nodded. He glanced around the hay bale before looking back at Niall.

"We should be able to stay here. He’s alone, vulnerable, so he shouldn’t come out looking for anyone. He’ll most likely wait until we come within range of his hiding place and shoot us from there."

"So we wait?" Niall asked.

"We wait," Liam agreed, leaning his back against the haybale. "Louis should scope him out, most likely get shot in the process. That’s why Harry saved him. We need him to find their hide outs, he the only one who can, but he always gets hit. Zayn should take the  
last guy out from there, he’s our sniper. Though you sure are giving him a run for his money."

Liam elbowed his arm and smiled. Niall returned it.

"Like I said, it’s all luck." He shrugged and leaned back with Liam, visors up, guns across their laps. "What about you and Harry? What are your… jobs?"

"Well Harry basically covers for Louis, like I said before." Liam explained. "He’s the one who kind of sees everything before it happens, keeps us all on the field. He’s usually first to go as well, always putting himself between Lou and the other team really. And me?  
Well I guess you can call me the brains of the operation. I plan out the strategies beforehand, and babysit the loner. I guess I don’t have to do that anymore."

"Hey babe! What are you doing in there?!" Louis shouted before yelping as their final opponent shot him straight in the visor. The other two boys smiled together, put down their visors and grabbed their guns, looking toward the direction of Louis’s outburst.  
From their position they could see everything, Zayn’s gun pointing out from between two barrels, the opponents aimed directly back.

"Oh no," Liam groaned. He leaned toward Niall and whispered. "Zayn can’t aim when people watch him, he gets nervous."

Niall nodded, understanding, and did something he would never have done before. He stood up and yelled.

"Hey coward! Come out and play!" He barely managed to finish the sentence before a green ball splattered across his chest. He lifted his visor and smiled, watching Zayn pull the trigger and send the kill shot straight for the last opponent’s helmet.

*SPLAT*

Harry and Louis, half of their gear already off, stormed onto the field, whooping and cheering. They tackled Zayn first, closest to the entrance, before the three of them ran to the other side, embracing Niall in a group hug. They ruffled his hair and patted his back, smiling and restating the entire match.

"Looks like Niall is our lucky charm," Liam said once the boys calmed down a bit.

"Hey, just because I’m Irish," Niall warned, wagging a finger at Liam before bursting into laughter and tipping an invisible hat.

\-----

The boys walked up the hill from the paintball field, Louis on top of Harry’s back, waving his hand in the air and shouting at the people they passed. Zayn had his arm slung around Liam’s shoulders, their steps matching. Liam glanced to his right as Zayn relayed his three shots once again. Niall’s face was flushed red from excitement, his blue eyes sparking and his teeth shining in the afternoon sun. He had a drop of sweat forming just below his hairline, clinging desperately to his left temple. The broad boy watched as it sped down the Irishman’s cheek, a hand flashing up to wipe it away. The movement broke Liam from his trance and he turned back to Zayn.

"That last one was easy, you know? I was lined up just right, Louis led me straight to him, no problem."

Liam refrained from reminding him that without Niall’s help he would have remained frozen behind the barrels, or worse, missed his target completely. There were some things they just didn’t mention, Zayn’s nerves being one of them. Perhaps it had started as a way to keep his reputation as the school’s resident badass intact, but it had become, over time, an unspoken rule.

Harry ran beside Niall at Louis’s urging, the older one leaning down to pinch Niall’s cheeks. He could be a bit overwhelming for most people in the beginning, but the boys had learned to love his spontaneous outburst and random voices. Niall seemed to as well as he merely wrinkled his nose and smiled at the gesture.

They neared their building and Louis slid down off Harry’s back. He ran ahead and sped for his room, eager to be the first in the shower. Harry didn’t bother rushing after him, knowing that even if he managed to beat his best mate to the shower, the boy woulf  
just pull him, naked, from the shower to use it himself. Instead he nudged Niall and spoke to him softly, taking out his phone and making him smile.

Something in Liam’s stomach fluttered at the sight. The blonde boy fit into their group so seamlessly, it was like he was made for them, as if he had been there all along. His laughter rang through the air, bouncing off the marble floors as they climbed the stairs to the third level of their dorm building. Harry patted him on the back, smiling, before waving goodbye and entering his room. The other three continued down the hall to the second to last door on the left, a black plastic sign reading “Z. Malik, L. Payne, N. Horan” in bold white lettering hanging at eye level.

Zayn entered first, removing his shirt lazily and throwing it at the nearly empty basket at the end of his bed. He unbuttoned his trousers on his way to the bathroom, walking out of them and shooting them, lay-up style, at the same basket. He didn’t wait to see if they made it, instead turning to the bathroom door and slipping inside.

As the lock of the door clicked shut, Liam bent over and picked up the trousers one meter from their target. The sound of the shower was muffled through the thin door to the bathroom, Zayn’s voice soon joining it melodically. The boy was talented, there was no doubt, but his knack for forgetting all the lyrics to songs but the chorus made the thirty minutes he showered a repetitive Hell for Liam’s ears.

He turned, eyes falling on a nearly naked Niall climbing up the ladder to his bunk, before grabbing his guitar and strumming nonchalantly to Zayn’s voice. His face was down, mouth alternating between a slight smile and tongue between his lips in concentration. He stopped strumming when he saw Liam staring.

"What?" He asked defensively. He put the guitar to the side and rubbed his hand, two singers still slightly swollen.

"How’s your hand?" Liam asked, avoiding the other boy’s question.

"It’s fine," Niall smiled, laying his hands still in his lap. Liam crossed the room and held out a hand, palm up.

"Let me see."

Niall hesitated, looking at the outstretched hand calculatingly, but eventually leaned down, setting his injured hand in Liam’s larger one. The boy examined it closely, stroking the back of each finger with the rough pad of his thumb. The touch of Niall’s heated skin against his sent a shock down his spine, the hair on his arm standing on end.

"You might want to get it looked at by the nurse," he said, eyebrows furrowed in concern. Niall tugged it back, but smiled.

"It’s fine, really."

Liam shrugged and lifted his shirt over his head. The thin, white fabric stuck to his skin with dried sweat, making him feel filthy and constricted. The warm air of late summer had been stagnant, no breeze to cool them off as they ran about under the sun, decked in layers of black paintball gear, heating their skin like an oven. His short curls stuck to his forehead wetly,. He used the shirt to wipe it before throwing it into his own basket, bottom already covered with clothes.

"So Niall," Liam sat on his computer chair, spinning to face the blonde boy. "Where exactly in Ireland do you come from?"

"Mullingar," he said proudly, subconsciously puffing out his chest. "Right outside of Dublin."

"You miss your family, don’t you?" He glanced at Niall’s desk, adorned with pictures of family and friends, Niall’s smiling face apparent in nearly all of them. Niall followed his gaze.

"Well yeah, but I’m prepared, you know? I know I’ve got a tough time ahead of me, but I knew what I was getting into. Won’t you miss yours?"

"Yeah I guess," Liam shrugged. "I’m used to it though, I’ve been going to boarding school since I was fourteen."

"And that’s been how many years?" Niall asked. He was leaning his back against the wall, legs dangling over the lower bunk.

"Three years, I’m seventeen."

"Me too," the Irishman smiled. "I’m guessing so are the others then."

"No actually, Zayn is, but Louis’s a year older. Something about starting a year late or something, I don’t know. Harry’s the baby, only sixteen."

"How is he so young?"

"Some sort of genius I guess, skipped a grade."

They sat quiet for a while, Liam swinging his chair back and forth, feet planted on the ground. His trousers sat low, dark blue briefs showing above the waistline. He pulled his phone out from his pocket and opened Twitter.

**Harry_Styles**   
_@NiallHoran is a beast at paintball. We’re going to rock this school!_

Liam smiled. With a few swipes and jabs of a thumb he followed Niall and updated.

**Real_Liam_Payne**   
_new freind @NiallHoran is teh man a viktory 4 the boyz!_

*bzzzbzzzbzzz*

Niall’s phone vibrated loudly against the wood of his bed. He rapidly picked it up, thumb swiping its surface. His eyes danced across the screen before glancing at Liam and smiling. The returned to the phone and his thumbs clicked rapidly at the touchscreen of his iPhone. A moment later Liam’s own screen lit up.

**NiallHoran  
** _@Real_Liam_Payne is the best roommate ever. Don’t tell @ZaynMalik_

Liam smiled. The door to the bathroom opened and Zayn walked out, one towel around his hips, another in his hand, rubbing his hair dry.

"Next," he said. Liam stood. Niall could wait, he was the new guy after all.

\-----

"Seriously?" The boys sat around Liam, Zayn and Niall’s room, the latter listening intently to Louis and Harry’s stories of their various pranks and adventures from the previous year.

"Seriously!" Harry laughed. "Louis just slipped in, dumped the bucket of frogs into his bath and crawled back out the window without the Warden ever knowing. It was hilarious!"

"And the best part was they weren’t seen," Liam added, raising his teacup in their directions. "I didn’t have to cover their asses again."

They all chuckled.

"We love you, Liam!" Louis smiled innocently and batted his long lashes from his seat beside Zayn on the single bed.

"Yeah, yeah," Liam waved a hand at him and sipped his tea to cover a smile. He loved the boys, and he loved this, chilling with them, drinking tea. Harry and Niall sat across from the other two boys, legs dangling off the blonde boy’s top bunk. Liam watched from his spot between them in his computer chair, one foot tucked underneath him. All five cradled steaming cups of hot tea in their hands, despite the hot weather. When Louis and Harry had arrived, thermos in hand, at their door that afternoon, Niall had raised his eyebrows questioningly. He was wrapped in only a towel, water dripping from his blonde hair and sliding down his neck. Liam had been distracted, Louis and Harry had to push passed him to enter the room.

"It’s a tradition," Zayn had said. Niall had simply shrugged and grabbed his clothes, changing in the middle of the room, much to Harry’s delight. He said Niall was officially part of the group once they saw his "dingaling."

So now the youngest boy stuck with Niall on the top bunk, making faces at the two boys opposite them. Zayn casually pulled out a package of fags from his breast pocket and looked pointedly at Niall.

"Wanna come with?" He asked, motioning to the door with his head.

"Yeah, sure!" Niall scrambled down the ladder and followed Zayn as he left through the door. The bouncing lad turned quickly to give them a hasty wave and set his cup on the desk before closing the door behind him.

"He’s fantastic," Harry commented on his way down the ladder, one handed. He joined Louis on Zayn’s bed and sipped his tea.

"You just like that he got naked in front of you," Louis retorted, pretending to scowl.

"Don’t be jealous, Boo Bear," Harry cooed, tickling under the older boy’s chin with his free hand. "His ass doesn’t even come close to comparing to yours. And besides, I just think it shows character is all."  
Louis snorted and pushed the curly haired boy’s hand away. He turned his attention to Liam.

"You like him, don’t you Liam?"

"What?" Liam’s throat closed and his tongue felt numb. ‘What was that supposed to mean?’

"You think he’s cool, right?" Louis asked, confused.

"Oh yeah," Liam sighed. "Of course. He’s cool. Everyone needs an Irishman around, right?

\-----

It took Zayn and Niall nearly half an hour to return from their trip to the roof, relatively longer than Zayn’s usual fag run. When they did come back the slimmer boy had one arm slung around the other’s shoulders, laughing, Niall joining in.

Louis and Harry exchanged a pointed glance at Liam. As great as Zayn was with them, never afraid of a hug or a good laugh, he rarely ever warmed up to anyone so well as to voluntarily touch them and genuinely laugh outright. The difference in his true laugh was the nose. When he was faking it, it didn’t scrunch up, eyes not nearly squeezing shut either. So the fact that he was currently draped over a boy he had known for only 24 hours, his face a picture of joy, startled his friens tremendously. Wheat had happened on the roof?

"This kid," Zayn said, releasing Niall’s shoulders. "Can light his farts!"

He bent over, clapping his hands and laughing. Niall stood, face slightly read but eyes shining. It took Louis and Harry a moment to catch on, but when the moment finally came both boys joined Zayn in Laughter. Liam couldn’t help himself, he burst out as well, eyes becoming mere slits as his smile pressed his cheeks into them.

"How did you even figure this out?" Louis gasped between breaths of laughter. Niall looked to Zayn, waiting for him to answer, but the Bradford boy was too consumed in laughter to reply.

"Well," Niall began, scuffing his foot on the ground slightly. "I accidentally let one go and Zayn smelled it, said it was toxic."

This set the boys off again, but instead of embarrassing Niall, it seemed to spur him on. He jumped a bit as he spoke, and moved his hands.

"He said it could be an alternative energy source, so I said I wondered if it would burn. He had a lighter so I let another one go and had the flame up and WHOOSH!" He threw his hands in the air at the last word, mimicking an explosion.

"It was epic," Zayn laughed, holding his side.

"I’ve got to see this," Louis jumped up and grabbed Niall’s hand, dragging him to the door. Harry followed.

"Me too!" He yelled down the hall after them.

Zayn jumped from his place beside the bed, Liam from the chair, and they bolted after them, up the staircase, pushing the heavy, metal door open to expose themselves to the humid summer air. A slight breeze had begun since the morning, ruffling the boys ’ hair. Louis motioned to Zayn who knew what he wanted, throwing him the small, square, metal lighter the boys had gotten him for his birthday the year before. They had even gone through the trouble to get it engraved with his initials in fancy, looping letters.

The trinket had come to have as much of a reputation as the boy himself. HHe had taken to playing with it, flipping it open, tossing it in the air, rubbing its smooth, metallic surface under his thumb. Someone had started the rumor that he burned people who displeased him or didn’t pay up. That was completely untrue of course, but Zayn didn’t mind. He perfered the distant attention to smother popularity.

Louis had caught the lighter in his right hand with relative ease. Chatting with the other two excitedly, he flicked on the flame.

"You ready Niall?" Louis asked, hand in place. To anyone else this scene would look strange, Liam and Zayn standing together, the latter nearly dying of laughter and hanging onto the former’s broad shoulder for support. Harry stood beside Louis, gripping his arm as though to assist him in holding the lighter up to Niall’s back end. The Irishman was silightly bent, hands resting on his knees, head glancing over his shoulder.

"Always," he smiled. Harry began to count down from ten, Liam and Zayn joining in.

"Four…three…two…ONE!" They shouted, Niall released and the flame shot back, expanding like a blow torch.

The boys stood in shock for a moment, Louis staring at the lighter, before Liam barked a laugh. The sound broke the silence, starting a round of hysterical laughter.

"That was the coolest thing I have ever seen!" Louis yelled.

"Shh!" Zayn warned, moving to the edge of the roof. The boys attempted to stifle their laughter as he crept closer to the edge. Liam saw Niall, eyes filled with concern as he glanced between Zayn and the other boys, obviously confused. He moved next to him and squeezed his shoulders reassuringly. The shorter boy spun in his hands.

"Why did Zayn say shh?" he asked, earning him a look from Zayn, finger to his lips. Liam chuckled. Niall sounded so young, innocent. It was hopelessly endearing. He whispered softly.

"Well, strictly speaking, we’re not exactly allowed up here," he said, laughing as Niall’s eyes widened and he looked around.

"You mean I’m breaking rules already?" His voice was almost inaudible. Liam wasn’t sure if the sound in his voice was wonder, or concern. Perhaps both.

"If you’re planning on hanging with us, kid, you had better get used to it."

As if on cue, Zayn spun around and moved quickly to them, crouched low.

"Warden’s on his way, I knew e were running over time." He slipped passed them, along with Harry and Louis, through the door to the stairs. As Liam and Niall hurried after them, Liam explained, his voice ruhed and excited.

"The Warden runs a strict schedule, I’ll give you the complete rundown later, but right now, at exactly 4:45 every day," Niall looked at his watch for confirmation. "The Warden does dorm check. Nothing serious, just keeping an eye on the boys."

They had reached the third floor and ran down the hall to their room, closing the door behind him. None of the other boys were with them, having mysteriously disappeared. Liam’s chest was heaving as he explained again.

"Zayn is most likely with the other two, giving them an alibi. He’s never been caught breaking any rules. Besides, being all together, or separated perfectly with roommates seems suspicious."

Niall sat on the ground, leaning back on his hands, elbows locked, legs sprawled across the floor.

"You’ve got this all figured out, don’t you?" He wondered, eyes alight.

Liam joined him on the floor, leaning his back against the drawers of the desk. He sighed, attempting to catch his breath before answering. The fact that Niall’s forehead was slightly sweaty, blonde hair sticking to it, and the position of his arms pulled his red polo tight against the muscles of his chest wasn’t helping. His heart was still beating too fast as he looked into the other boy’s eyes and felt his happiness. It was as though he saw into his soul and hugged him from the inside out.

He cleared his throat.

"Well yeah," he shrugged casually. "We had all last year to figure it out. Louis and Harry’s knack for trouble definitely kept us alert. We know everything there is to know about this school’s inner workings. You could say we ARE this school’s inner workings."

He was cut short by a curt knock on the door. It opened before either of them had a chance to respond. The Warden’s large, wobbly head peeked in, watery eyes scanning the room for any signs of misbehaving.

"Where is Zayn Malik?" His high voice pierced through the thick air.

Liam shrugged cooly, as if he had done this one thousand times; he probably had.

"No idea, check room 302."

The Warden glared, as if knowing there was something wrong, something he was missing. He gave the room a final sweep of the eyes before retreating and closing the door behind him. Niall shivered.

"That guy gives me the creeps," he said in a hushed tone, hands rubbing his upper arms as if to warm himself up.

"Tell me about it."

\-----

Dinner started at exactly 5:30 every evening, giving the boys just enough time to reconvene, laugh, and get ready, before heading down to the other brick building that served as the dining hall. Like everything at the school, the building was old and elaborately designed with marble floors and vaulted ceilings. Short, heavy wooden tables were scattered about the room, enough to fit about two hundred boys, all of which were currently streaming into the room, chattering loudly.

Louis ran to the table in the corner between the back wall and the floor to ceiling windows, furthest from the door. He sat with his back to the wall,patting the seat beside him for his best mate. Liam and Niall sat across from them, the smaller boy by the window. Zayn sat at the head of the table, facing the crowd of excited boys. They could all sense the other students’ eyes on Niall, wondering how he managed to infiltrate the group so easily. Other students had tried, and failed, all last year to become good enough friends with the boys to be considered part of the group. It wasn’t as if they ignored everyone else, or were mean. With the exception of the sometimes distant Zayn, all of the boys were genuinely pleasant to everyone, all the time. They were gracious and humble, always lending a hand to someone in need. But no matter how nice they were to others, they never offered for them to join the group, an unspoken, invisible barrier surrounding them. That was, until Niall came along.

There was a buzz of unrest as he sat with the group, Liam’s arm resting protectively around his shoulders. What had he done differently? They thought. Some looked at him with hope, proof that becoming part of the coolest group in school wasn’t impossible.  
Others saw him as a threat, an opponent who took their place.

But what the other students thought didn’t matter. The group already loved Niall because he completed them. He was the missing piece of the puzzle, to use the old cliche.

"I’ve already got orders," Louis mentioned casually to Zayn. The darker boy looked around and shook his head, motioning to the Wardens making their rounds of the tables. Student’s looked up at them innocently before going back to plotting and whispering as soon as they turned away. They waited in silence for a few moments before a bell rang, signalling them to get in line. In the mad dash to the food, Niall and Liam lost their friends as they scurried away, heads bent down, whispering.

"What was Louis talking about, orders?" Niall asked, grabbing a tray and falling in line behind his friend.

"Well," Liam looked about, grabbing a plate of chips from the counter, Niall followed suit. "I can’t really say."

"More broken rules?" Niall smirked.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that." The were silent for some time, moving along the line, picking up a plate of fish fingers here, some fruit there. Liam hesitated before speaking again, but Niall was so open, so honest and understanding that he couldn’t help but trust him.

"We take orders for things the other students can’t get, things that are banned from the campus. It started last year when Louis and Harry found a way to get off the school grounds without anyone knowing. They would have gum, crisps, whatever they wanted. Some other boys found out and wanted it too. So, as friends, they began taking orders and bringing things back for people who would then pay them back. But it got so big and unorganized, it was really dangerous for them to break so many rules." Liam paused as a Warden passed by. They smiled politely and moved on, weaving between tables.

"That’s when Zayn joined in. He wanted cigarettes, and he was more organized than the other two, he created a sort of business. I guess you were bound to find out eventually."

They set their trays down and sat, the other three boys already digging in. Niall shoved four or five chips into his mouth, chewed, and turned to Liam.

"Can I help?" He asked after swallowing, voice full of innocence again. Liam’s heart raced at the sight of his vulnerable blue eyes and eager smile.

"That’s not up to me," he answered, turning back to his food. Niall almost pouted, but looked to Zayn.

"Can I?" He asked again. Zayn looked at him, then to Liam, who shrugged.

"Yeah," he answered. "I need someone with me tonight when I get the more… dificult items."

He glanced at Liam when he said this. The broader boy set down his fork and stared at him.

"No," he said simply.

"It’s fine," Zayn replied. Niall glanced back and forth between the two, Liam staring intently at his friend, Zayn avoiding his eyes casually, yet pointedly.

"He’s not doing that run. Send him with Louis to the candy store."

"I need a fresh face." Zayn risked a glance at Liam, whose hands were balled into tight fists.

"Why are you even going this early? You can wait another month at least."

"I already set up the time and place," Zayn shrugged and reached for the salt.

"Then I’m coming too." Liam said, voice final.

Harry, Louis, and Zayn all stopped eating and looked up. Liam had never gone for supplies before. He always stayed behind, not willing to break suck a large rule. But here he was, offering not only to leave campus, but to get illegal items to bring back and sell. Niall glanced at the boys, confused. Zayn broke the silence.

“No,” he shook his head, looking down again. “Three’s too many.”

“Then just me, Niall stays.” Liam’s eyes were almost pleading.

“But-” Niall broke in, interrupted by Louis’s foot connecting with his shin underneath the table. The older boy shook his head.

Zayn looked up, into Liam’s eyes. He could see the emotion there, raw and pleading, but he wanted Niall with him. He knew the boy would be a good partner with his suppliers. His innocence nearly screamed to the world, his dealers wouldn’t be able to resist those eyes, just like Liam couldn’t.

"Fine," he gave in. "All three go."

Niall smiled triumphantly, not knowing just what he was getting himself into. Liam nodded faintly and went back to his food. The boys across the table looked at each other. Perhaps Niall shouldn’t have found out about their “business” quite so soon.

\-----

"Niall, wake up," Liam reached up and shook the blonde boy’s muscular arm, pulling him from sleep. He watching as the boy levered himself up on his elbow and rubbed his face sleepily.

"Come on, bud," Liam continued. "It’s time to go, get some shoes on."

Niall had laid in his bed, fully clothed, and napped while the other two prepared for their supply run. Liam didn’t want Niall to go, not to this one, but Zayn was insistent and it was his business, even if it had been started by the other two. Liam didn’t have any real influence over what Niall could and couldn’t do. He had no hold on him, no reason to call the shots when it came to his life. He had only known him for less than 48 hours, and yet he felt such a strong need to keep him safe, a need he had to force himself to push aside tonight.

It would be dangerous though. They weren’t running to the store for bubble gum and soda, they were going for a large amount of cigarettes, booze, and weed. They refused to sell hardcore drugs and while it may not sound like much, a couple of students sneaking cartons of fags, weed, and enough booze to knock out a family of bears, into the school would most likely not get away clean. Not to mention, the people willing to sell that much to a coupld of teenagers were more than likely sketchy. Liam had never met them, and Zayn said they were reliable- cousin of a friend of his from back home or something- but you could never be sure.

So Liam watched as Niall drowsily pulled on a pair of shoes and strapped on the backpack Zayn handed him, his heart sinking. He just hoped tonight wasn’t the night they got caught, hopefully Harry and Louis did their job well, and kept an eye out.

"From the time we exit this room, no talking until we get to the woods, got it?" Zayn said, tightening the shoulder straps of his bag and pulling his dark beanie off his head, handing it to Niall. "Your hair is too light, not much we can do about the skin."  
Niall grinned and yanked the hat over his bright, blonde locks. Liam adjusted the hood of his sweatshirt, securing it over his head. He checked his watch, 2:43. They had seventeen minutes to make it off the grounds before the night watch swept passed the place where they entered the woods.

Zayn left the room first, followed by Niall, Liam bringing up the rear. The leader turned the handle of the door to room 302- Louis and Harry’s- as he walked passed before carrying on, silently, to the stairs. He climbed up, not down, heading for the roof. They followed him, quietly as possible, to the heavy metal door, opening to the warm summer air, silent but for the wind rustling the leaves in the distant trees.

As they stepped onto the roof, Liam watched Niall. His face was beaming, white teeth and pale skin glowing in the light cast by the sliver of the moon in the sky high above. He crept behind Zayn obediently, copying his every move precisely.

The slim boy crouched to the corner of the roof, lifting a long piece of wood and laying it across the the other building. There wasn’t a large gap, no more than two meters, but the look of the wobbly piece of wood made Liam’s stomach lurch unpleasantly. This wasn’t him. He should be sleeping in his comfortable bed right now. But one glance from Niall’s sparkling blue eyes had him forgetting his worries and waiting for Zayn to cross.

Once the boy was on the other side he motioned to Niall with a flick of his hand, holding the wood steady. The blonde boy jumped onto the plank and ran across eagerly, aparently fearless, and beaming once on the other side. Liam told himself not to look down. He kept his gaze trained on those crystal blue eyes, shining in front of him.

The distance was short and he was on the other roof almost immediately, Zayn pulling the wood toward him and tucking it under his arm. The three dark figured crept over the roof and repeated the process several more times until they were standing on the slanted roof of the dining hall, woods just on the other side of the incline. Zayn tucked the plank carefully in a groove in the roof, right between the slant and a statue of a woman in a draping gown.

They climbed up one side of the roof and then slid down the other, balancing on the palms of their hands and the balls of their feet. If anyone had been awake and staring at the dining hall roof that night, all they would have seen was the pale glow of Niall’s light, Irish skin as they shimmied down the emergency ladder onto the ground, only meters from the border of the woods. This was their spot, the place with the least amount of a security. They would only be seen if a guard walked behind the building and directly in front of them.

Liam glanced at his watch; 2:57. Three minutes until the guard would pass. Zayn put his hand low, palm down, signalling them to stay. He crouched, moving fast through the empty space. He seemed to be enveloped, swallowed up by the darkness of the woods,  
Niall and Liam searching for any sign of motion, holding their breath.

Liam risked a glance at his watch again; 2:59. The guard would come around any second. He must have missed Zayn’s signal because he felt a warm, strong hand grab his and pull him toward the forest, a beam of light landing on the place they had occupied just a moment before.

A guard with a flashlight appeared in front of them, their place hidden by undergrowth and shrubbery. Liam pushed Niall down, laying on top of him to cover his pale skin. They froze, not even daring to breathe, a difficult task for Liam, whose heart pounded loudly in his ears and whose lungs seemed to have emptied themselves of oxygen at the feeling of Niall’s warm body stretched under his own. He could feel the boy’s heart beating against his ribs, Niall most likely being able to feel his aswell. Hopefully he would brush the erratic rhythm off as the stress of the situation.

After a few moments the man moved on, the three boys letting out a collective sigh. Zayn placed a finger to his lips and slinked off into the forest. Liam stood, held out a hand to help Niall up, and they followed Zayn further into the undergrowth.

At least ten minutes passed before Zayn moved to Niall and squeezed his shoulders with one arm.

"You did good, kid," he said, smiling. He turned his attention to Liam, smile still on his face. "You too Liam. Never took you for such a sneaky bugger."

Liam shrugged, smiling back. He found the whole endevour exhilarating. Not that he would ever tell the boys.

"I’ve learned a bit, hanging out with you and the other two trouble makers. TToo bad this kid shines like some sort of vampire in the moonlight."

Niall laughed and hissed, looking between the boys on either side of him.

They came to a road, dark and abandoned. Liam glanced at his watch; 3:16.

"This way," Zayn muttered quietly, smile gone. "Just let me talk, ok?"

\-----

It didn’t take lone before the boys came across an old cottage, abandoned and crumbling. The dark silence enveloped them, Niall stepping closer to Liam, brushing their arms together. A shiver went up Liam’s spine.

"Zaynie," a dark, feminine voice sounded out behind them. All three boys turned to the woods, two figures emerging from the shadows. One was small, slight, with sleek blonde hair and glowing skin, much like Niall’s. The other, following slightly behind the  
first was tall, muscular, and dark. His nearly black skin blended into the night, the shine off his hairless head nearly all that gave him away.

"Etain," Zayn said, smiling falsely. His dark eyes wary as she leaned in and kissed him once on each cheek.

"And who do we have here?" She asked, slight Irish lilt to her voice, as though it had been many years since she had heard the accent. Her body turned to the other two boys, looking at them appraisingly. "Where’s Louis, or Harry?"

She stuck out her lower lip dramatically, stepping closer.

"They couldn’t make it," Zayn said blankly.

"We agreed to meet in pairs, Zaynie," she said, voice sickly sweet. Her hand reached out to touch Niall’s cheek, but he flinched away, clinging to Liam. Her hand retracted slightly, still hovering in the air. "You brought an extra."

"They’re a set," Zayn shrugged, feigning nonchalance. Etain’s sculpted eyebrow shot up in surprise.

"Oh?" She smirked, eyes twinkling. The warm feeling Liam had felt when Niall cling to his arm sank and turned cold at the sight. He didn’t trust this woman.

"Yes," Zayn sighed, looking around. Liam caught his eye, seeing what the boy was trying so hard to keep secret, fear. His dark eyes slipped down, falling to his watch. "Now, we’re on a schedule, can we hurry things along?"

Etain backed away and moved toward Zayn, motioning with her head to the man at the border of the woods.

"Of course Zaynie," she whispered, seductively, as the man disappeared.

There was a tense silence as they waited for the man to return. Liam moved his arm around Niall’s waist, bringing him close, protecting him. The shorter boy’s eyes flicked between the woman and the woods, glancing briefly to Liam’s face, as if reassuring  
himself that he was there.

The man returned, a large box in his arms. Zayn stepped forward to inspect its contents.

"And the booze?" He asked Etain without looking. His hands were in the box, removing square boxes of fags and putting them in his bag.

"I had a proposition for you," her voice slithered over their skin. Zayn stopped packing but kept his eyes on the box. This wasn’t planned. Not planned equals dangerous. "And now that I see… your set… I’m willing to throw in a little extra costumer service, for a price."

Liam didn’t like this, not at all. He didn’t like the setting, so vulnerable with no way to defend themselves. He didn’t like the way the woman’s voice seemed to hang in the air even after she finished talking. He didn’t like the man with the box, staring at the top of Zayn’s head, almost hungrily. He looked at Zayn, trusting his friend wouldn’t do anything stupid; he never had in the past. Despite the obvious worry on his face, he went back to stuffing the bag.

"What did you have in mind?" He asked, voice tense.

Etain walked around Niall and Liam, one long fingernail running across their backs, sending shivers up their arms and making the hairs on the back of their necks stand on end.

"Well… we were thinking it would be more… efficient… to deliver the heavier goods to you, save you the trouble." She paused in front of them, fingertips running over the soft skin of Niall’s cheek. Liam felt something bubble angrily in his chest, Niall grimacing and turning his head into the broader boy’s neck, making Etain chuckle, white teeth glinting in the pale moonlight. "We might be willing to deliver everything for a little time with… your set."

Zayn finished, moving to his friends and trading bags with Liam before moving back to the box and filling the bag with small bags of green leaves.

"No deal. Too compromising for us. And these two," he paused, glancing at them. "They aren’t for sale."

Etain crossed her arms and moved to Zayn’s side.

"Are you sure about that?" She asked, voice becoming low and threatening. Zayn finished and slung the bag over his shoulder before making eye contact.

"Absolutely," he said. "Come on boys. We’re done here. I’ll be in touch, Etain, next time for the booze, like you promised."

"Payment?"

"The usual place," he called over his shoulder, moving the other two ahead of him.

"I want you to bring the set from now on," Etain shouted. Liam could hear the smirk dripping from her voice. "Anyone else and no deal."

Zayn turned, about ten meters away and smiling angrily. “Harry will be so disappointed.”

Etain grinned back, no happiness in her evil smirk.

\-----

"What the fuck was that?!" Liam hissed as soon as Zayn closed the door to their room. The slimmer boy threw down his bag and flopped onto his bed, lying on his back. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and sighed.

"I’m sorry," he mumbled.

"I’m sorry? I’m sorry?!" Liam struggled to keeps his voice down as he felt anger rising in him like a wave, threatening to crash and spill over his carefully built walls. "That’s all you can say after what just happened?"

He felt a warm hand on his shoulder and glanced behind him to see Niall, fantastic smile back on his face, eyes sparkling. He had taken off Zayn’s beanie, leaving his hair messy and sticking up in odd angles.

"It’s ok, Liam," Niall said. Liam decided he liked the way his name sounded in an Irish accent. "He obviously didn’t know that would happen, it’s not his fault. And we’re all fine."

Liam sighed, anger simmering to a dull throb. He shrugged Niall’s hand off his shoulder and turned back to Zayn. His voice was low, even lower than usual, eyes weary.

"We can’t do that again, Zayn. It’s not safe. We shouldn’t even have gone tonight."

Zayn sat up slightly, leaning on his right elbow, left hand running through his hair.

"You’re right Liam," he sighed. "But we don’t really have a choice. We have to at least finish this run before ending any future deals. We can’t just not show up."

Liam shook his head and put up his hands.

"Whatever, Zayn, but if I had known how sketchy those people were, I never would have let you deal with them in the first place."

Zayn’s eyes narrowed and he sat up fully, swinging his legs over the side of his bed.

"You never would have let me?" He asked, lips curling. "Since when do I need your permission, Payne?"

Liam winced as his friend spit out his last name as though it left a sour taste in his mouth. The Bradford boy stood to leave.

"Oh come on Zayn," he pleaded, reaching out. "You know I didn’t mean it like that."

Zayn whipped around.

"Oh no? Just like every other time you baby me and treat me like a kid? I know what I’m doing, Liam." His eyes weren’t angry anymore, they were upset, almost fearful. His dark eyebrows furrowed together and he reached a hand into his hair, running his fingers  
through it and grabbing on, eyes closing. "I’m going to sleep in Louis and Harry’s tonight."

Liam didn’t stop him, He knew that face, the look in his eyes. He knew he messed up and he regretted it, Liam wasn’t going to make it any worse. Maybe attacking him like that hadn’t been a great idea. Niall was right, Zayn didn’t know it would happen; it wasn’t his fault.

He saighed, unzipping his hoody and shrugging out of it. Niall stood behind him, chewing his lip.

"Don’t worry, Niall," Liam reassured him, not bothering to fake a smile. He tugged his shirt over his head and walked out of his trousers. "Best get some sleep, another paintball match tomorrow."

Liam crawled into his bed as Niall agreed, stripping off his own clothes. He shifted to become more comfortable in his bed, pulling his covers under his chin, not being able to believe how short of a time he had been back with all that had happened already. Tomorrow was just another day, not even a school day yet. Hopefully they all managed to make it through the introduction week without getting expelled.

The mattress above him shifted and dipped. He reached a hand out, flicking off his desk lamp and plunging the room into darkness.

"Goodnight Liam," Niall’s voice peeped from above him. He couldn’t help but smile.

"Goodnight Niall."

——

It was as if nothing had happened once the morning came, light streaming in the window. Zayn stumbled about the room, looking for a shirt. He smiled and greeted his drowsy roommates, tugging a polo over his head.

“‘Mornin’ sleepyheads. Breakfast in fifteen,” he said before sweping out of the room, bag slung over his shoulder and fag tucked behind his ear.

Liam heard Niall stretch and yawn above him, joints cracking. He groaned and rolled onto his back, throwing his feet to the floor and sitting up. This was why he didn’t go on the late night runs, he thought, rubbing his hands through his hair. He wanted to go back to sleep desperately, but knew he would miss breakfast and his stomach wouldn’t have that. It rumbled loudly as if to prove its point.

He looked up, right hand on the back of his head, the other across his lap, stretching to the side. As he twisted his body, stretching his muscles, Niall appeared in front of him, naked but for a pair of tight, green boxers. Liam attempted to keep his eyes elsewhere but they always managed to wander back to the pale boy, back to him as he rummaged threw his drawers for clothes. The muscles of his back rippled beneath his taunt skin, slightly red with imprints from the bedsheets. He had two small dimples right above the waistband of his boxers, something Liam found incredibly endearing. Along with the tiny pouch of a stomach he saw once the boy turned around and sighed, slouching slightly.

Liam moved his head to the side, pretending to be occupied solely with his stretching and not at all with Niall’s nearly naked body right in front of him so early in the morning.

The boy brushed passed him on his way to the bathroom, leaving his clothes on top of the dresser and not bothering to close the door behind him. He squirted a liberal amount of toothpaste onto his toothbrush and scrubbed, one hand attempting to  
somehow make his unruly blonde hair come to a concensus to either be flat or ruffled, not half and half.

Liam shook his head vigorously and stood up, scratching absentmindedly at an itch on the back of his thigh.

"Cute," Niall chucked, mouth full of minty froth.

"What?"

Niall spit before answering, a bit of white paste sticking to the corner of his mouth.

"Scratching your bum, so attractive."

Liam laughed. “This is coming from the boy who farts in his sleep, not to mention lights them on fire when he’s awake.”

Niall threw his head back and laughed, walking closer.

"Oh come on, mate. You laughed at that."

Liam shrugged, smiling. He reached his hand up and wiped the toothpaste off the other boy’s mouth with the pad of his thumb. They froze at the sudden contact, locking eyes. Liam’s breath caught in his throat, heart pounding, the corners of Niall’s mouth  
twitching upward. He leaned into Liam’s hand slightly before it dropped to its owner’s side. Liam cleared his throat.

"I’vegottapee," he excused himself lamely. He rushed to the bathroom, closing the door behind him and leaning his back against it. What was that? What did he just do?

He brought his hands to his face and walked to the sink. They fell to the ceramic bowl, supporting him, his eyes moving to look at his reflection in the mirror. He seemed normal, despite the nearly insane look in his eyes.

He wasn’t gay. He liked girls. Didn’t he? This boy was just new, a novelty, and his hormones were just remembering all of the other years he had gone without a female to admire. That was it. The fact that he had nearly lost himself in the sea of his clear blue eyes  
and the air had been sucked from his lungs meant nothing… right?

Who was he kidding? He was crushing on a guy, a guy he had only known for a few days.

Liam sighed, shaking his head. He readied his toothbrush and cleaned his teeth, willing the thoughts of the other boy from his mind. He just wouldn’t think about it anymore, it would make things weird. Niall wouldn’t want to sleep in the bed above a boy who thought about him naked. Thought about rubbing his hands along the soft skin of his chest and kissing his neck.

Liam spat. Avoiding those thoughts, right. Easier said than done.

When he opened the bathroom door and went back into their room, Niall was gone. Liam sighed and pulled on a white shirt, a navy zip up over top, and jumped into a pair of khakis. He pulled on a pair of socks as he walked to the door, slipping his feet into his white, Nike high tops, and leaving the room. Harry and Louis were just closing the door to their room a few meters ahead.

"Hey guys, wait up," he shouted as he jogged after them, falling into step.

\-----

"Fuck," Zayn muttered beside Niall, watching Harry walk off the field, yellow paint splatter on his left arm. They were no more than ten minutes into the game and they were already down one player.

"Did you see where that came from?" He asked. Niall shook his head. He couldn’t admit that he’d been too busy staring at the place several meters away where he knew Liam hid. He couldn’t admit that he was barely able to pay attention to anything when the other boy was around.

"He’s a good guy," Zayn smiled, watching Niall. The blonde boy whipped his head around. eyes wide. Zayn simply shrugged. "Even if he gets a bit over protective, he means well."

"Who?" Niall asked innocently, looking down and fiddling with his gun. Zayn shook his head exasperatedly.

"Go," he shoved his shoulder into his friend’s and tilted his head. Niall attempted to cover his smile as he crawled away. He was nearly there, Liam’s foot in view, when he heard Louis’s yell.

"Gotchya!" He screamed, followed by two swift splats. Both Louis and a member of the other team stood, leaving the field. The older boy attempted to throw his arm around the other, but he was pushed roughly away, his hands shooting into the air defensively.

It was still early in the game, no more than fifteen minutes in, yeat they already lost two teammates. Hopefully Zayn pulled through for them.

"Hey," he nudged Liam’s foot, smiling.

"Hey," Liam smiled back.

"Did you happen to see where that shot to Harry came from? Zayn and I didn’t see."

Liam shook his head, turning his face away. His gun was tucked under his arm, his knees resting on the soft, muddy ground. His visor was down, hiding the blush rising on his cheeks.

'Stop thinking about him, just stop.' He told himself. He tried to ignore his presence as Niall moved next to him, arms brushing. An elbow jabbed into his side playfully, taking him off guard, making him jump and squeeze the trigger of his gun. A red ball flew  
forward and splattered uselessly against a barrel ahead of them.

"Sorry," Niall muttered.

Liam opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted as Niall’s head lurched forward and smashed their helmets together.

"What the fuck?" He whispered, not so much angry as confused. "Wha-"

Niall’s helmet turned away, exposing the yellow splatter across the back of it, the reason for the sudden jump forward. He moved his head to the side and saw their opponent, no more than two meters away, paintball gun trained on him. The boys froze, as if if  
they didn’t move, the other boy would ignore them. They saw his shoulders shake slightly, chest rising and falling rapidly, he was laughing at them. The little fucker. His gloved finger squeezed the trigger, there was no possible way for him to miss at this  
distance.

Just as Liam thought the ball would fly, the boy’s head jolted to the side, red splatter against his helmet, paint slipping in the cracks.

Niall turned back to Liam, visor raised, face beaming. How was he not supposed to think about kissing that face when it was so close, so very close.

"Thank Zayn for me," he whispered happily and stood, walking to the sideline to join Harry and Louis leaning against the fence. Both boys patted his back and ruffled his hair.

Now it was two against three, though more like one against three since Liam was such a lousy shot. He didn’t think they had any pre-made plans for just Zayn and him on the field, it had never happened that way before.

First step, find Zayn.

He crawled toward the direction Niall had come, knowing the two had been together not long before. Zayn would most likely be near the wall, using it to cover his back, within a five meter radius of the latest victim, judging by the force of the blow. That left only  
the other side of the tall, metal sculpture, a meter from the outer wall of the field.

Liam paused, took a breath, and rushed the last distance to the sculpture, Zayn waiting calmly, gun resting in a whole in the metal, trained on something in the distance. One of his eyes were closed and he rested the side of his head on the base of the gun.

"You really need to learn to be more discreet," he mumbled quietly. Liam could hear his smiling. "I could hear you coming as soon as you began to move."

"Wasn’t it just last night that you were complimenting me on my sneakiness?" He smiled back.

"Must be the moonlight," he mumbled casually. "Look away."

Liam did as he was told, turning his attention to the ground, inspecting his mud-covered boots. A cry rang out across the field, one of their opponents standing up, sporting a red streak across his visor. Zayn removed his temple from the gun and beamed. Liam  
looked back up.

"I am really sorry about last night," he apologized. Zayn waved a hand at him.

"I understand," he said. He looked into his friend’s eyes, searching them knowingly. "You’ve become attached."

"What?" Liam asked, a bit taken aback. Zayn held up a finger and removed his gun from the hole in the metal. Liam looked at the ground as he casually aimed behind him and fired, hitting the target. The boy kicked at the ground and ripped off his helmet,  
swearing. Liam looked back up.

"You really like the kid," Zayn’s attention was on his gun, wiping a bit of mud off the barrel. "You just want to keep him safe, I get it."

"I- no- it’s just-" he stuttered trying to find a the right thing to say. "It was dangerous for all of us, Zayn."

Zayn sighed and put his forearms on his knees, crouching and balancing on the balls of his feet.

"It’s ok if you find him attractive, mate," Zayn said. "I won’t judge you or anything. I’ll still love you the same if you’re gay."

Liam coughed, choking on his own saliva. He shook his head violently and waved his hands back and forth.

"No-no no," he managed to sputter out. "Not gay. I’m not gay. No, man."

Zayn shook his head, smiling knowingly.

"Ok, whatever you say, mate."

He spun deftly on his heels and Liam once again turned his eyes to the ground, just as he pulled the trigger one final time, ending the game with a red splat across their last opponent’s chest.

"Damn," Zayn swore, standing. "I meant to hit his helmet."

\-----

The rest of the week was rather calm. Harry and Louis took Niall on a run to the store for harmless things like bubble gun and cola a few nights after in incident with Zayn’s dealers, Liam choosing this time to stay behind and sleep, the wiser choice in his opinion. Louis and Harry had taken this run a million times, sometimes once a week during a particularly busy time of year, Liam wasn’t worried about Niall’s safety. What he was worried about were his growing feelings for the boy. He treated him like he did the others, though perhaps babying him just a tad more and finding every excuse to throw his arms around his shoulders aor bump their knees together.

Despite his attempts to keep it from becoming obvious, Zayn would shoot him knowing glances and smiles, laughing as Liam would nearly growl if anyone stole the blonde boy from him. It was to be expected, Zayn sharing a room with them and having caught on relatively quickly in the first place. Liam was ecstatic with his friendship with Niall. Although he considered Zayn his best mate, Niall made him laugh, made him remember that he didn’t need to take care of everyone all the time. He made him appreciate the little things.

Liam chuckled as he remembered the previous night, lying on their back and staring at the stars as Zayn leaned against the door, smoking. With anyone else Liam would have felt stupid admiring the way those giant balls of gas millions of kilometers away twinkled like tiny fireflies caught in the dark blue blanket of night sky above them. When he said said as much, he figured Niall would laugh at him for thinking so deep, but the boy remained silent. Liam turned his head to him, laying his cheek against the cool roof.

He could see Niall’s eyebrows furrow slightly and the corners of his mouth twitch before he turned his head to face Liam. He stared into Liam’s light brown eyes for a while, silent and smiling.

"I never knew you were such a dreamer," he answered quietly. Liam shrugged, eyes shifting down for a brief second before locking back on Niall.

"There’s a lot you don’t know about me," he replied, lips lifting in a smile. A smile that Niall returned.

"I’d like to," he whispered. Liam felt the boy’s hand brush his as they turned their eyes back to the sky. He left his hand there, feeling the heat of Niall’s skin radiating against his own, tiny hairs standing on end to feel its presence.

"Hey buddy," the Irish voice broke into his thoughts. Niall entered the room, dropping his bag at the end of their beds and shoving his phone into his pants pocket. "What are you up to?"

Liam shrugged, watching the boy’s strong fingers wrap around the neck of his guitar and carry it with him to his own chair, rolling it to the middle of the room, facing his friend.

"Just thinking." He answered.

“‘Bout what?” Niall

His blue eyes glanced up at him quickly before falling back to the guitar in his lap and strumming softly. Liam’s eyes followed his finger’s deft movements, licking his lips as they seemed to dry at the sight of Niall’s tendons dancing beneath the skin of his hand.

"Nothin’ really." He picked at his cuticles, glancing through his eyelashes at the blonde boy. Blue eyes locked on his and he flicked them down to his hands again.

"Now you know I don’t believe that," Niall smiled sweetly, ceasing the movement of his fingers.

"Don’t stop," he said before he could stop himself, looking up. Niall arched an eyebrow. "You’re really good."

He finished lamely, his eyes searching the room anywhere but Niall. The soft strumming began again, making Liam smile.

"I guess," he mumbled after a moment, listening peacefully to Niall’s agic fingers. "I guess- just this year- I don’t know. I mean, I’m worried a bit about Zayn, and what trouble he’ll get himself into."

"Not Harry and Louis? Zayn can take care of himself I think."

"Yeah," Liam chuckled. "That’s because that’s what he wants you to think. And it’s true to a point. Most of the time he can. When it comes to school- the students, teachers, Wardens- I’m not worried, but when he walks off campus, that’s different. He’s my best  
mate, I worry about him. Not everyone can be fooled by his tough exterior. What if he get a run in the wrong people, people he can’t scare off. As tough as he looks, he’s not, not really. He loves his family and us guys- you too- and he wants to protect us, but I  
don’t think he really even knows how to protect himself, emotionally.

Liam sighed. He hadn’t realized that he actually did feel that way about Zayn, another worry to pile on. But he was astonished at how easy it was to lay it all down to Niall, whose big, blue eyes were so honest and accepting, not judging, not interrupting, just listening. Niall waited to make sure Liam was finished.

"But you beating yourself up won’t fix any of that, and neither will babying him. He has to figure stuff out on his own. He’s made it this far, hasn’t he? That must count for something.

Of course he was right, speaking simply and honestly as always. Niall was wiser than he looked. To other people he might seem constantly giggle, bouncy and excitable, but Liam had glimpsed this side of him. The side that made Liam stop worrying long  
enough to begin enjoying himself. The side that made Liam sure that no matter how much he tried to deny it, he was falling for this boy he had only known for a few days.

"Yeah, I suppose yo’re right," he sighed.

"Of course I’m right."

There was a loud flurry of knocks on the door. Liam pushed his chair to it, not bothering to stand, opening to Louis and Harry’s smiling faces. The older boy held up a thermos and pushed passed Liam into the room, Harry smiled, almost apologetically, at Liam  
before following.

"Congratulations to us! Paintball masters!!" Louis shouted, hugging Niall from behind and ruffling his hair with a free hand. "Where’s Zayn?"

The boy appeared, as if summoned, foot stopping the door to keep Liam from shutting him out.

"God you smell," Harry said, hand to his nose. Louis mimicked him, throughing a hand to his throat and pretending to choke.

"Shut up guys," Zayn grumbled moodily. He would never admit it, but every time his friends brought up how much they hated the cigarette smell, it made him feel guilty.

Niall stood up and Handed Harry his guitar, not trusting the clumsy Louis now flailing dramatically on the floor. Walking to his dresser, he opened the top drawer and pulled something out, hiding it from view. Once he stood in front of Zayn he revealed it,  
raising it to the stinky boy’s body and pressing the button on top, spraying him with liberal amounts of deodorant. It took Zayn a moment to realize what was happening, but once his brain registered thathe was being coated with AXE he flinched away, holding  
up his hands.

"Oi, enough!" He yelled, smile betraying him. "You’re making a hole in the ozone layer above our room."

Niall squirted him twice more before lowering his hand, joining the others in their laughter. The two boys coughed as they inhaled the cloud of intense scent, waving their arms in the air to disperse the particles.

"Well done, mate," Louis said, slinging his arm lazying around Niall’s shoulders. "No one will suspect him of smoking now."

Zayn lifted the collar of his polo to his nose, gagging at the amount of smell exuding from it. His fingers hooked on the hem and tugged it over his head. Something growled and stirred in Liam’s chest as he watched Niall’s eyes slide over Zayn’s bare skin. He  
felt his nails bite into his palms as his hands balled into angry fists. Niall was smiling, eyes sparkling as they raked over the tan, well muscled chest of their roommate. Liam struggled with his inner beast, willing it to sleep. That was until Niall’s wet tongue slid  
across his bottom lip, leaving it shining and pick. The beast roared fully awake and thrust Liam to his feet. Every one’s eyes moved to him.

"Uh-" his mouth was open, words struggling to form. "What about a bit of a party, huh?"

He let out a weak laugh and took the thermos from Louis’s hands. Squatting on his heels he fumbled in his bottom desk drawer for the five mismatched teacups. Niall appeared beside him, smiling tentatively.

"Need a hand?" He asked. Liam risked a glance to the side, the boy’s face no more than twenty centimeters from his own. He took a sharp breath in and nodded, handing Niall two mugs, grabbing the last three in his free hand and standing, shoving the drawer  
closed with his foot. He focused on the cups and not the strong, callused fingers wrapped around their handles.

White and blue rings around Louis’s, the handle small and circular and the rim flaring out. A tiny, navy anchor had been painted on the inner rim, adjacent to the handle. Harry’s was black on the outside, white on the inside. The white silhouette of a cat danced  
along the practical handle. Both were mutual gifts to the other last Christmas. Niall carried them to their owners, filled with steaming tea.

 

Zayn’s cup was the oldest. Liam had found it last Christmas as well, but instead of buying one new, he went to a second hand shop. The base was white with a rectangle of burgundy circling it, a gold ring along the rim. He didn’t know whay he had picked it, but

Zayn had been delighted and used it every day.

His own cup was simple, blue and short, round on the bottom with an angular ridge. It was the plainest of the cups, a gift from Zayn. Niall’s was the most recent addition. His was green with light green four leaf clovers boardering the rim, a gift from Louis and  
Harry after Liam mentioned that the plain white one they had nicked from the teacher’s lounge didn’t suit him.

The Irishman had woken to a neatly wrapped present, undoubtedly Harry’s doing, complete with a bow sitting prettily int he center of his desk after the fourth night at the school. He had nearly squealed in delight as he scrambled down the ladder, not even  
bothering to pull on a pair of trousers before running out of his room and down the hall, tackling the drowsy Harry who answered the door.

Now he placed a firm hand between Liam’s shoulder blades and leaned against him, reaching for his cup.

"Thanks," he muttered. Liam could only smile and nod, heart beating at the warm pressure on his back, the feeling calming the beast in his chest back to sleep. Even when Niall removed his hand he could feel a phantom of the weight.

"To the gang," Louis said, raising his cup in the air.

"To good luck," Liam added, smiling.

"To the Good Luck Gang," Niall smiled.

"Cheers!" They shouted in unison, clicking their cups together. Liam carefully placed himself on the bed between Zayn and Niall, casually sipping his tea with a smirk.

\-----

_"If my pillow talk, imagine what it would have said_

_Could it be a river of tears I cried in bed?_

_So you can cry me a river_

_Daddy, go ahead and cry that river_

_'Cause I cried, how I cried a river over you_

_How I cried a river over you.”_

"Shit, mate," Zayn mumbled, mouth agape, mirrored by the other three boys. Liam blushed hotly and smiled.

"How did we not know this about you?" Harry’s nostrils flared and he smiled wide.

Liam shrugged.

"Well, now we know we made the right choice," Niall commented, smugly.

——

"Hey," Liam jumped at the noise. Niall appeared, smiling as always, beside him.

"Hey, mate."

"Shouldn’t you be sleeping?" He asked, leaning down next to his friend and resting his elbows on the top of the roof ledge.

"Shouldn’t you?" Liam retorted with a kind smile.

They stood in silence, looking over the campus, silent and still under the night sky. The moon had grown more full since the night they snuck off campus with Zayn, light falling over everything, giving it all an ethereal glow. It washed over Niall’s face and hair,  
reflecting off his light locks like a halo.

Did Liam want to do this? He could feel the air vibrating with things unsaid, but once they were revealed there would be no turning back; no magic spell to make them forget. Perhaps it was too fast. Maybe he should just let the whole thing fade organically,  
forget the whole thing now while their friendship could still be saved.

But could it? He was sure the other boy felt something too, but was it the same? He had stared at Zayn, shirtless. Maybe he would only go for Liam because he could, not because he felt any emotions toward him.

He mentally slapped himself. The was Niall. Kind, honest, open Niall. He was too pure to be a player, too sweet to be a liar.

Two of Niall’s fingers walked across the top of the ledge into his view, slowly climbing his arm. Liam watched them stop once they reached his hands, hesitating. He moved slowly, as if afraid he would scare his friend away, carressing Niall’s hand with his,  
pulling him in and standing up straight. His other hand brushed a blonde lock of hair from his forehead, gently.

"Liam," Niall’s face was close, so close to his. He could feel the boy’s breath on his mouth.bIf he just leaned forward a few centimeters he could kiss him. He could finally kiss that mouth that had him squirming in his seat and nearly panting in his dreams since  
he’d met him. But he didn’t, he couldn’t. Niall had to know that this wasn’t just a hormonal teenage thing. As much as it killed him, he instead leaned in and pressed his dry lips to the boy’s soft cheek.

"Come on," he whispered and tugged Niall toward the door. "It’s late."

——

Zayn was sitting up in bed, back against the wall, laptop balanced in his crossed legs when they entered the room. They had released hands once in the corridor, but judging from Zayn’s smile when they entered, he had an idea of what happened. Niall excused  
himself to the bathroom and shut the door, shower running a moment later.

"Talk," Zayn said, not bothering to look up from his computer screen, face lit in a blue-ish hue.

"No," Liam replied, removing his shirt.

Zayn sighed and shut his laptop, putting it aside and unfolding his legs.

"Liam," his voice almost warned.

He turned, attempting to make his face the picture of innocnence. Apparently it didn’t work.

"Just tell me."

"Nothing happened," he shrugged, stepping out of his trousers.

"But…?" Zayn urged.

"I just kissed his cheek," he mumbled, falling back onto his bed, exhausted.

"Well it’s something," Zayn shrugged, picking up his computer again. "Just put a sock on the door or something when you’re doing stuff. Just ‘cause I’m ok with it doesn’t mean I want to see you two getting it on."

Liam whipped his head up.

"Zayn!"

"What?" He laughed. "It’s going to happen some time or another. I see the way you look at each other when the other is watching. You totally want each other’s dicks."

"Ugh!" He groaned and flopped back down, covering his face with the crook of his arm. "I can not believe you just said that."

——

"I’m just saying, the school should think about hiring more women," Harry said between bites of his potates, shrugging.

"The nurse is a woman," Liam pointed out.

"Yeah, a 67 year old woman," Harry grimaced.

"What happened Harry, I tought you liked older women," Louis wiggled his eyesbrows and nidged his friends side with his elbow. Harry stuck his tongue out at him.

"Hey Nialler," Liam perked up at the sight of their friend, guitar slung over his back and notebook in his hand. "Where have you been?"

The other boys were surprised when Niall didn’t show up to lunch with them, he was usually the first in line. They had waited in the room for ten extra minutes, finally deciding he must have gone without them. But when they arrived he had been no where to be  
seen. Now the boy popped up, hair ruffled and cheeks flushed, slightly out of breath.

 

"I’ve been writing our song," he beamed, setting his guitar in an empty chair and sliding next to Liam.  
"Really? Let me see!" Louis ripped the notebook from his hand and thrust his face to the paper, scanning Niall’s messy handwriting. Harry leaned on his back, reading over his shoulder, Zayn straining his neck to see as well. Liam was blocked by the table, but that didn’t keep him from trying. He leaned over their trays, tugging at the pages, the three boys slapped his hands away. Sitting back he looked at Niall, his face red but smiling. He nudged the boy’s leg with his.

"This is adorable!" Louis cooed. "Did you write cords?"

"Yeah," Niall shrugged, beaming and looking at the floor.

"Well what are we waiting for?" He bolted away from the table, grabbing Niall’s guitar as he passed.

"Louis, wait!" Niall laughed after them. The other three shoved a few more bites of food in their mouths before racing after them.

The found the two sitting cross legged in the grass, Niall once again in possession of his guitar, strumming and looking at the notebook balancing on his knee. Just as the boys approached, Harry flopping on the ground next to Louis, Niall began to sing.

_"I tried playing it cool,_

_But when I’m looking at you,_

_I can’t even be brave,_

_'Cause you make my heart race.”_

He glanced up at Liam, cheeks pink, a small, embarrassed smile on his face. It grew bigger as he continued singing, loving eyes with Liam.

_"Shot me outta the sky,_

_You’re my kryptonite._

_You keep making me we-ak,_

_Frozen, and can’t breathe.”_

He stood, strumming more vigorously.

_"Somethin’s gotta give now,_

_'Cause 'm dyin' just to make you see,_

_That I need you here with me now,_

_'Cause you've got that one thing.”_

He stopped, a meter in front of Liam, eyes alight, mouth wide as he sang.

_"Get out, get out, get outta my head,_

_And fall into my arms instead._

_I don’t, I don’t, don’t know what it is,_

_But I need that one thing, and,_

_You’ve got that one thing.”_

Niall’s chest rose and fell heavily, his face was flushed. Liam’s eyes were scrunched up as he smiled, heart racing. He knew it was sappy and cliche, but he felt as if the song was for him and it made the air difficult to breathe, lungs contracting. If the other boys  
noticed their moment, they ignored it, Louis coming up behind Niall to clap him on the back, notebook in hand.

"This is really great, Nialler. I think you should record the backing guitar and Harry and I will work on the harmonies. We have a free hour now, right babe?"

The slim boy turned to his friend, who smiled and nodded. Louis grabbed Niall’s wrist and pulled him away, toward the dorms, Harry following close behind.

Zayn’s arm slung over Liam’s shoulder and he leaned in, whispering.

"I told you so. He fancies you."

Liam pushed him away with a laugh and a smile. Maybe he was right… maybe he did return his feelings, the project was about communication after all. But what if it was just a song? This assignment wasn’t making him a code breaker, it was just making more  
codes.

"Not to burst your happy bubble, but I need you and Niall to come with me Friday night, we need to finish the deal."

Liam stopped walking and looked at Zayn, eyebrows furrowed.

"Zayn," he began, cut off by his friend’s hands shooting in the air defensively.

"I know, but I promise this is the last time. We just need to finish this deal and then I’ll break it off with Etain, I promise."

His brown eyes were pleading. Liam knew he would be good to his word, he always was, but he still hesitated. He hadn’t liked how the woman had looked at him and Niall, itgave him the creeps.

"Deal," he agreed. He couldn’t bail when his friend needed him most. "But on one condition."

"Anything," Zayn sighed, but quickly added; "Within reason."

"Don’t break it off with her in person, it’s too dangerous. Wait and do it the way you communicate in other ways."

Zayn paused, thinking.

"Deal." He put his hand out, Liam taking it in his and shaking. "Now let’s go find your man."

\-----

Niall bounced along side Liam and Zayn, face a mixture of nerves and excitement. They had made it through to the woods with no problem, walking now in nervous silence. Each bot knew what would happen; they would wait, Etain would arrive, false pleasantries exchanged, as well as booze, and hopefully they escaped unscathed.

They were surprised to find Etain and her towering lacky waiting out in the open for them. Her malicious smile shined in the bright moonlight, none of them returned the gesture.

"Etain," Zayn said, nodding his head in her direction as they approached.

"No, no," she said, holding a finger up to stop him. "Not you. I only want to speak to your boys."

"You know that’s not the deal, Etain. You already broke it last time with the booze, I don’t think you want to do it again." The boy placed himself about a meter in front of the others, creating a barrier between them and the small woman.

She forced a pout and came closer, looking passed him.

"Which first?" She pondered aloud, looking between them hungrily. "How about you, sweetie?"

Liam flinched as she motioned to Niall with one long-nailed finger. He pushed the boy behind him slightly, blocking him from her view. Her gaze switched to his face.

"Oh," she smirked, coming even closer, passing Zayn to stand before the trembling pair. "You really are a set, aren’t you? So what do you say, Daddy? What’s your name?"

She ran one of her long, sharp fingernails across his cheekbone as he scowled, silent. She quirked an eyebrow and made a move toward the boy behind him

"Liam," he blurted hastily, bringing her attention back to him. She smiled, changing from her nails to the soft pads of her fingertips and tracing his jaw. He nearly gagged as she leaned in, searching his eyes.

"What’s your boyfriend’s name, Liam?"

He made his eyes blank, tried to think of nothing, remain silent.

"Liam," her voice was sickly sweet, like cough syrup, as she gripping his chin tightly, leaning in. He stopped breathing. Would she kiss him? Wasn’t there some sort of line, a boundry she couldn’t cross? His mind raced, he wanted to close his eyes and go  
somewhere else, somewhere where his nostrils weren’t filled with her overwhelmingly floral perfume. Somewhere where his head wasn’t locked by a sharp nailed hand. Somewhere where he didn’t feel like vomiting from her proximity to his face.

And suddenly he was. She released his face and stumbled back a step, Niall having stepped forward and physically pushed her away.

"It’s Niall," he growled, eyes narrow. "And don’t you dare touch him like that."

They looked on the two pale figures with bated breath. Both Niall and Etain glared, staring each other down. Etain’s lip twitched, she blinked, breaking contact. Her usual greasily mysterious attitude returned.

"You didn’t tell me he was Irish, Zaynie."

Niall made to lurch forward but backed down at the sensation of Liam’s hand on his wrist. He stepped behind Liam again, placing a reassuring hand on the small of his broad back.

"This has nothing to do with our deal, Etain. You’re stalling, and I won’t let you get away with harassing my friends." Zayn spoke up defiantly, but Liam recognized the fear in his eyes, virtually invisible.

"Oh really?" The woman walked up to their leader, snaking a hand up his chest to grip his shoulder. He winced as her nails bit into his skin through the fabric of his shirt, but he pushed her away.

"Etain!" His voice was harsh and biting, slicing through the dense night air and setting the woman on her toes. She froze for a moment before motioning to the man far away. He disappeared like he had their first night. Etain closed the distance between her and  
Zayn again, leaning in to whisper something in his ear, something that made his eyes flash wide and glace quickly at Liam.

The man was faster this time, returning just as Etain leaned back, face evil. Zayn quickly transferred the contents of the box to their three bags, handing Niall and Liam theirs without making eye contact.He zipped his bag and hoisted it on his shoulders,  
tightening the straps.

"I’ll be seeing you, Etain." He turned away and walked in the direction they came.

"You had better," she called after him. "Remember what I said."

Liam managed to wait a whole two minutes before he broke down and asked his friend the question that had been burning in the pit of his stomach since hearing Etain’s words.

"What did she whisper in your ear?"

"Nothing important," Zayn replied, eyebrows furrowed. He looked at Liam and his expression softened. "It’s fine, mate. You’ve got nothing to worry about."

Liam was far from convinced, but he knew better than to force the issue. Instead, he wrapped his arm around Niall’s shoulders and squeezed. Niall’s face turned up to his and he smiled. He glanced quickly in Zayn’s direction before dragging Liam to the side,  
behind a large tree. He searched his eyes before squeezing his arms around Liam’s waist and burying his face in his chest. The motion was so quick and unexpected that Liam froze for a moment, not knowing exactly what to do. But the warm, moist breath  
coming from Niall’s mouth was seeping through his shirt and onto his skin and the boy’s warm, strong arms gripped him so tightly that his instincts kicked in, throwing his arms around the other boy’s shoulders and pulling him in.

He didn’t know how long they stood there, bodies pressed together in an intimate hug, but it was long enough for Liam to make up his mind. When the Irishman pulled away, hand resting on his friend’s waist, Liam used the side of his thumb to gently brush  
Niall’s red cheek. He leaned in, brown eyes locked on blue, and pressed their foreheads together. He could feel the heat rising to his cheek where his thumb still rested.

Unblinking, Liam closed the distance, gently, ever so gently, brushing his lips against the moist pink ones in front of him. His eyelashes fluttered against Niall’s as they briefly closed, breath both too heavy and too shallow. It wasn’t so much a kiss as a ghost of a

touch, but the boys understood the implications. They understood, now, what the other wanted, just from a simple touch.

The hoot of an owl tore them from their wonderland and back to reality. Liam closed his fingers around Niall’s, lacing them together, and pulled him toward the school.

Zayn was leaning against a tree twenty meters away, inspecting his nails.

"Are you ready?" He asked, attempting to keep his eyes off their interlocked fingers. Both boys nodded. "Good, let’s go. I want to be able to get some sleep while it’s actually dark out."

 

\-----

"Niall, come on, we have to finish writing this song." Liam attempted to keep from smiling as the Irishman nuzzled further into his neck, mumbling contently.

"No we don’t," he sighed into him, arms wrapping around the boy’s broad chest. "We can do it later. Come on Liam, I just wanna cuddle."

A week had passed since that night in the woods, their relationship growing to the point where they were almost inseparable. Harry and Louis had caught on nearly immediately despite both boys refusing to talk about it and denying any claims the other boys  
had that things had happened. Which technically, by Harry and Louis’s standards at least, was true. Their almost-kiss in the woods was as far as they had gone, the rest of their time was spent holding hands or rubbing legs or whatever else they deemed  
discreet enough to do in public.

Liam’s arm would often slip around Nial, resting his fingers in the small dip of his waist. Niall would rest his head on the other boy’s shoulder and breathe in his scent, falling asleep on more than one occasion. In the room they would cuddle on their beds, Niall  
resting on Liam’s chest with the broader boy’s arm wrapped around him, sometimes reading, sometimes singing, sometimes talking about nothing at all.

Now they sat up on Niall’s bed, Liam’s back against the wall, Niall on his chest, working on writing a few more verses for their song. Or so they had planned. Niall had instead decided to snuggle against Liam, making it impossible to concentrate. He pressed his  
mouth against Liam’s neck, breathing out through his nose.

"Niall," Liam groaned, attempting to sound irritated but managed instead breathy and aroused. He could feel the boy smile against his neck, moving his mouth north to Liam’s jaw. Ghosting along the skin of his stubbled cheek until he reached his mouth.

Just as Liam was about to close the minuscule gap between their lips, Zayn burst in, Louis hanging around his neck, cackling. Niall jumped back, nearly falling from the bunk. The two boys on the ground were too busy wiping their eyes of laughter induced tears  
and holding each other up to notice.

Niall smiled wide at them, Liam joining him.

"Oi," he shouted at them. "What’d you do this time?"

"Louis Tomlinson!" Harry’s voice came from the hall. Both Louis and Zayn scrambled to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind them just as the curly-haired boy stormed in. His face was intensely angry, his curls dripping wetly from an obvious shower,  
only a towel wrapped around his slim hips. At first Liam didn’t see what was wrong, Harry almost never yelled at Louis, even joking around.

Niall noticed it first, smothering his laughter with his hand and burying his head in Liam’s shoulder. Then he saw. The hair, other than a few stray patches, on Harry’s arms and legs was gone. Even the light happy trail that usually adorned his flat stomach had  
disappeared.

"Oh my God, Harry. What happened?" He tried to keep his face sincere and the amusement from his voice, but from the look Harry was giving him, he was failing miserably.

"Louis put hair remover in my lotion bottle." He grumbled angrily. This set Niall off again, unable to hide his laughter. "Oh go ahead and laugh, you’re not the one who lost your manhood."

"It made you’re penis fall off?" Louis’s voice queried from inside the bathroom..

"No, you twat, but now all my hair is gone!"

"That’s generally the purpose of hair remover," Liam contributed, smiling back at Harry’s glare.

"Well maybe if you weren’t such a pussy. What kind of man uses body lotion?" Zayn’s voice laughed.

"A lot of men actually, it keeps our skin youthful. And I’ve gotten more pussy than you!" Harry shouted back.

"Sixty-seven year old pussy!" The boys cackled in the bathroom, voices echoing off the walls.

"More like fit, blonde, Irish pussy that gets me free booze!"

The laughter died instantly, all four boys knowing who exactly Harry was talking about.

The door of the bathroom swung open, a hand yanking Harry in by the front of his towel and the other pushing Louis out. They listened intently to the hushed, fervent whispers coming from inside, only able to catch a few words.

"…dangerous…mob…whore"

"…not a big deal…"

"…could die!"

Louis shifted uncomfortably before looking at Liam, eyes sad.

"I’m going to my room," he whispered and turned, closing the door quietly behind him. Niall and Liam sat quietly for a few moments until the bathroom door opened once more, Harry storming out.

Liam crawled over Niall’s legs, patting his knee gently, and climbed down the ladder to the ground. He quietly entered the bathroom and closed the door behind him. Zayn sat on the lid of the toilet, head in his hands.

"This is so fucked up," he whispered weakly.

"I’ll try to refrain from from saying I told you so," Liam mumbled. Zayn snorted.

"Thanks."

"Don’t mention it."

They were silent, Liam waiting for Zayn to open up to him.

"She told me-" his voice croaked out finally. "She told me that if I broke it off she’d come after us. She had an ‘in’ she said. I didn’t know what she meant until now. Fuck."

His hands gripped his hair tightly, as if the pain on his scalp would make it all disappear, or at least dull the pain of his obvious screw up.

"She wants you and Niall for her ‘collection,’" he spat the word as if it were acid. "Just like she wanted Harry and Louis. I never thought they’d cave, you know? That’s why I brought them, just to look, but not to touch. That’s why I wanted to bring Niall so badly.  
I’ve been using the guys as bait and now it backfired and we’re totally fucked."

"We’re not fucked, Zayn," Liam said quietly, squatting in front of him and placing a hand lightly on each of his friend’s knees. "It’ll be fine. Harry won’t bail on us, not for her, you know that."

"Yeah, but what if she does something?"

"What can she do, really? It’s fine, Zayn, stop beating yourself up." Even though he smiled and kept his tone light, he was scared. He didn’t know what Etain was capable of, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let her tear his friends down.

"What time is it?" He glanced at his watch, answering his own question. "5:00. We can start down to the dining hall, I bet you’re hungry."

"No wonder Niall loves you, you’re constantly shoving food at us as a way to cope."

He stood, Liam following suit, his stomach fluttering at what Zayn had said. They embraced quickly, but tightly, the broader boy patting his shoulder once before ushering him into the other room. Niall sat in a chair, spinning around lazily, staring at the ceiling.

"Dinner time?" Niall piped.

"Yeah, mate." Liam embraced him and kissed the top of his head, pulling Zayn against his other side. "Let’s go get some grub, boys."

 

\-----

Weeks slipped by in a rush of school work and business transactions. Niall turned out to be a huge benefit to their “company,” convincing skeptics to trust his friends. He was a people person, always speaking the truth, something people appreciated more than you would think.

After the ordeal with Etain, Liam pestered Zayn about whether he had broke it off, whether he would drop that particular part of their business or find another dealer. Every time he asked, Zayn would shrug and change the subject. Perhaps Liam should have  
been more worried, perhaps he should have demanded a straight answer, but the fact was, he was distracted. He spent half of his free time stressing over school work, including Mr. Cardle’s assignment and the other half with Niall and the boys, either keeping  
the latter out of trouble or doing… things with the former. Not bad things or inappropriate things- ok, some inappropriate things- but mostly just… things.

Liam’s mind wandered from the books in front of him to the day in early-October, the day that always made his heart skip and his cheeks flush.

He and Niall had been in the common room, sprawled across one of the leather couches. Niall was upright, phone out, while Liam rested his head on his lap. He held a book above him and draped his legs over the arm of the couch.

Liam felt his phone vibrate against his leg. Setting his book open on his chest he pulled the mobile out, unlocking the screen to see a message from Twitter.

**NiallHoran**

_@Real_Liam_Payne always scholar. He’s so charming when he reads._

Beneath the text was a picture the boy had obviously just taken of him. He could see the smile on his own lips, completely oblivious to the camera. He glanced up at Niall who was flicking through his phone innocently. Liam could see a sparkle in his eye and a  
twitch of his lips as he struggled to keep from smiling. He turned back to his own phone.

Carefully, so as not to raise any suspicion, he flicked his thumb over the surface of his screen. He tapped it„ snapping a picture of Niall, a smile finally sneaking through. He typed and added the picture, sending his Tweet.

**Real_Liam_Payne**

_@NiallHoran isnt the only 1 who can tak sneaky pics wut a cutie xx_

It was only a second before Niall’s phone vibrated loudly in his hand. A full smile exploded over his face as he read it. Their eyes connected.

Liam felt a tug at his heart. In this moment, staring up at Niall’s smiling face, he was happy. Purely happy. He forgot the stress of school and life and thought only of Niall. His contagious laugh, his breathtaking smile, the way he always said what he was thinking.

"I want to kiss you," the blonde boy whispered.

"Better get to it then," Liam smiled.

He leaned up, balancing on his elbows, to meet Niall halfway. They paused, breath mingling, hesitant, before gently closing the distance.

Niall’s lips were dry, a bit chapped, but as they pressed into Liam’s, they were the most perfect lips in the world. They moved slowly against his, adding pressure, as if if he were to let go he would disappear, fade away like a dream. But he wouldn’t, he was here  
and he placed his hand on the back of Niall’s neck, tangling his fingers in his hair and angling his body into the boy’s chest, book sliding to the couch. The rough, callused hands found him, one holding onto his wrist, the other cupping his cheek, fingertips  
caressing his hairline.

The Irishman’s lips stretched in a smile against his mouth, Liam’s mimicking them. He pulled back slightly, opening his eyes to see Niall more clearly.

"That was nice," Niall mumbled against his lips. Liam leaned back, balancing on his right elbow, eyebrows raised.

"Really? That’s what you’re going with?"

Niall shrugged, smiling wide, and leaned in to peck him on the mouth chastely.

"I’m glad I can do that now." He smiled and ran a hand through Liam’s thick hair.

"Who told you that?" Liam teased. Niall smacked his shoulder playfully.

Since then they had done that more. Surprisingly not as much as normal, horny teenage boys. There relationship was… different. Liam wouldn’t say delicate, that wasn’t quite the word, but Liam was determined to keep it steady. He didn’t want to feed the fire  
too quickly and run out of firewood.

He kept things slow, as much as he would rather jump Niall’s bones every time they had a moment alone. Niall would often whine at the pace, urging Liam to continue. It would take every bit of will he had to refuse him. He thanked God that Niall gave in so easily  
because there had been times, too many times, that Liam knew he would give in if he asked one more time or looked at him with those pleading blue eyes.

A sound came from Niall’s bed, a sort of groan, or sigh, that told Liam the boy was waking up. It was nearly eleven on the second Saturday of December, the day they all left for Christmas vacation. Liam hadn’t been able to sleep and decided instead to get in a  
few extra hours of studying before the holiday, a fact that Niall would pick on him for later. Or now.

"Always with the books," his sleepy voice mumbled through the air. Liam spun his chair to face him, smiling. The boy had his arms resting on the railing of his bed, chin set on his left forearm.

"Admit it. You love it."

Niall groaned a vague answer, and rubbed his face his has hand, using the other one to push himself up. He stretched his back, his hands reaching up and splaying himself in the air.

Liam couldn’t help but stare at him, his muscles shifting under his skin as he leaned his body back. His normally pale skin was pink from the heat under the covers. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes slightly puffy. He ruffled his short hair quickly hefore  
looking back at Liam, eyes significantly more alert. A blush rose to the boy’s cheeks when Niall caught him staring. He cleared his throat.

"What time are you leaving for home today?" He asked. They hadn’t discussed the vacation, both skirting about the subject whenever it came up. Neither of them enjoyed the thought of not being able to see each other for three weeks. Usually Liam loved that  
their school gave them a week longer than most for vacation, but now it just felt like an elongated punishment.

"My brother is coming at one." He replied, moving to the end of the bed and drowsily climbing down the ladder. He rested his temple against it, yawning. Liam smiled. Niall was always the most adorable in the mornings. Maybe that’s why his body had taken to  
waking up earlier, so he could watch this drowsy boy drag himself out of bed every morning.

He held out his arms with a smile. Niall grinned and walked to him, sitting on his legs and curling into his chest. Liam embraced him, wrapping one arm around his back and the other around his shoulders, squeezing his arms into his chest. He could feel Niall’s  
slow heartbeat against his, feel his warm breath on his neck. Three weeks was too long. Liam had never been a very codependent person, preferring to go his own way, but even the thought of being apart made his heart twinge in his chest.

"Liam," Niall looked up at him, resting his head on his broad shoulder.

"Mmm?"

"I don’t want to leave." His voice sounded so small, so young, that it made something catch in Liam’s throat.

"Now don’t be like that," he smiled, shaking Niall playfully. "You’ve got to go home to the rolling, emerald hills of Ireland. You have to spend Christmas with your family. Beside, we can Skype whenever you want."

Niall shrugged.

"I know, it’s just not the same as hugging you."

Liam smiled. Keeping his arms around Niall, he used his feet to pull their chair across the room to his dresser. He opened the second drawer from the top and pulled out a bundle of navy fabric. He handed it to Niall, the boy sitting up to inspect it.

"This is your favourite. I can’t take this, you wear it almost every day." Niall smiled at him and pushed the hoody into his chest, shaking his head.

"Exactly," Liam shoved it back. "So it’ll be like I’m there."

"You’re so lame," Niall chuckled but slid his arms into the sleeves anyway, zipping it over his bare chest.

"What can I say? That’s who I am." Liam shrugged, light brown eyes sparkling. Niall barked a laugh and jumped off his lap.

"I’m gonna shower." His face was alight with a smile as he nearly skipped to the bathroom, shaking his bum in an awkward dance. Liam laughed at how ridiculous he looked, and how he didn’t care.

Zayn entered just as the door to the bathroom clicked shut, shaking his head with a smile.

"My mom’s on her way," he said casually, sitting on his bed. "She’ll be here a little after twelve I guess."

Liam nodded. He hated living so far from the boys, not seeing them for nearly a month would be extremely difficult. It would be good to go home though. He could get away from the stress of school and keeping the boys business quiet. That reminded him-

"You broke it off with Etain, right?" He asked Zayn, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his knees. The slim boy looked away, keeping his eyes occupied with anything but Liam. Eventually he sighed.

"No."

"Zayn," Liam’s voice was touched with a mixture of emotions; frustration, disappointment, worry, and just a dash of empathy. "You need to stop it, she’s dangerous."

"I know, I’ll do it. I promise."

"You’ve been saying that for months, Zayn, and you still haven’t." He stood up and walked to his friend, grabbing his wrist firmly and tugging him off the bed. "Come on, we’re going to the roof and you’re going to call her, or do whatever you do, and tell her it’s  
over."

Zayn let himself be led, straightening up at the sight of the other boys. They couldn’t see the vulnerable side of him that Liam could order about with a mere look. He couldn’t have them knowing that despite his tough exterior, he was a shy, worried introvert.  
No. They couldn’t know.

The cold of the winter air bit at the bare skin of their faces. It was brisk, but still. No snow had fallen yet.

Zayn begrudgingly took his phone from his pocket and walked to the edge of the roof, looking at the ground and scuffing his foot against it. Liam watched his friend nibble his lip with his phone to his ear, eyes uneasy. He couldn’t hear what he was saying from  
his place in the comfort of the warm doorway, but he could read his face like a book.

Someone must have answered because Zayn smiled, someone he liked, someone he trusted. His eyes sparkled happily for a few minutes as he chatted, almost normally, with the person on the other line. At once veil of anxiety seemed to fall over the boy’s dark  
eyes. They must have reached the point in the conversation where Zayn’s reason for calling was brought into the open. The veil stayed in place until the end of the call, a tiny smile making an appearance as they said their goodbyes.

"There. Done," Zayn grumbled, shoving his phone roughly in his pocket and standing before his best friend.

"You ok?" Liam asked after a few minutes of silence. Zayn merely shrugged apprehensively.

"I know I should be, but… I guess I’m still just a bit angry about the whole thing."

Liam nodded and pulled him in for a hug. He was lying. He wasn’t angry, he had never really been angry about it at all and Liam could tell. He could see the lines in his face deepen as he worried and feared for his friends, his brothers. Liam knew that more than  
anything, even more than himself, Zayn worried about his boys. People saw him as vain and often disinterested, but that was far from the truth. Under the perfect hair and the mysterious smolder, Zayn had a heart of gold, his biggest weakness.

 

So now as they stood, Liam’s arms trapping Zayn’s head against his shoulder and the slimmer boy’s arms squeezing his middle so tightly he was nearly holding his own elbows, Zayn let go. He was warm and safe and protected from the judging eyes of the  
world. He breathed in deeply and exhaled against Liam’s neck, releasing every worry, every expectation, into the warm embrace. It was done. He was free of the burden on his friends. He was free.

They stood, squeezing each other tightly in the winter cold. It wasn’t until Liam’s phone vibrated repeatedly between them that they broke apart, Zayn’s face smooth and relieved of its previous anxiety. The boy slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out his  
phone, placing it to his ear as he motioned Zayn inside and shut the heavy metal door behind them.

"Hello?"

"Where’d you go? My brother just got here, we’ve got to get going a little earlier than I thought." Niall’s voice was excited and a bit breathy, as if he had been exercising.

"Zayn and I are on our way now." He answered.

"Ok. Ow! Greg, stop, I’m on the phone-" he heard a clatter and Niall’s jubliant laughter, accompanied by another. The line went dead a moment later. He put the phone back in his pocket and began to rush down the stairs.

"Niall’s almost leaving, his brother is in the room now," he called over his shoulder to the confused Zayn.  
They sprinted to the room, huge smiles on their faces. Bursting through the door, they saw Niall in a headlock, a short-haired boy about his height rubbing his knuckles vigorously against the top of his blonde head. At the noise of the door they both looked up  
wearing matching smiles.

"Hey boys, this is Greg. Greg, that’s Zayn and Liam." The man in question squeezed him once more before letting go, hand outstretched toward the roommates.

"Nice to meet you guys," he said, Irish accent thick, like his brother’s. His handshake was firm, nearly crushing the bones of Liam’s hand. "I hope this little guy isn’t causing too much trouble."

"Not at all,"Liam answered truthfully. "He’s an angel compared to our other friends."

"Brace for impact," Zayn said, looking at his phone. A moment later the two boys from down the hall stormed in, tackling Niall to the ground.

"The curly one is Harry, the one with the braces and the pants that are too short is Louis," Liam explained as Zayn joined the tumble.

"It’s good to see he has friends here," Greg said quietly, looking on with smiling eyes. "He wasn’t so lucky at our school back home."

Liam’s eyebrows furrowed, how was that possible? Niall was the most friendly person Liam had ever met. He was honest and kind and generous. The only things he did that annoyed anyone were stupid things like farting or singing everything he was doing, but  
even that was charming in its own way. Greg must have seen him thinking.

"Has he told you?" He asked nonchalantly, as if discussing the weather. But Liam knew what he was refering to; the only the controversial enough about the Irish boy to make someone not like him.

"Yeah, we-" he paused, should he tell him? He was obviously supportive, and from what Niall had said about him, he was a great guy, but Liam didn’t know. What if he didn’t approve of him dating a boy from his school? What if he had Niall transferred? "We discussed it."

"I figured," Greg shrugged, eyes on the mass of wrestling bodies on the floor. "He talks about you a lot. You’re best frinds. If he told anyone, it’d be you."

"We’re close." Liam could feel the blush rising to his cheeks.

"How close is close, Liam?" The question was open, not judging or underhanded. He wasn’t asking it to weasel information out of him. He genuinely wanted to know.

"Very." He left it open for interpretation.

They stood in silence, watching the four boys. Louis had managed to become tangled between all of them, brace around Harry’s arm, trapping it.

"Be careful with him, ok?" Greg said suddenly, eyes sad.

Liam blanched.

"Yeah, yeah, of course," he stuttered out.

Greg looked at his watch. “Come on, Niall. We’ve got to get going. The plane leaves soon.”

He turned to Liam as Niall said his goodbyes to the other boys, Harry’s eyes looking particularly wet. “Do you have some paper, and a pen?”

"Uh, yeah." Liam spun around, shuffled in his desk and handed the man a stack of post-its and a dull pencil. He took it and scribbled something down.

"My number, if you ever need anything," he paused. "Or he does."

Liam took it, nodding. As an afterthought he scribbled down his own, handing it over.

"Just in case."

"I’m ready," Niall smiled, coming up quietly behind his brother. Liam felt his chest contract at the thought of him leaving, but swallowed and kept his breathing even.

"See you in a few weeks, Nialler," he said with a helf-hearted grin. Niall’s smile faded slightly, eyes twinged with emotion. he walked forward, ignoring his brother’s obvious presence, and embraced his best friend, burying his face in Liam’s neck. He could feel  
the boy sniffle as he buried his face deeper. Liam placed his lips against the boy’s hair one before moving to his ear.

"I’ll always be there, Niall. Whenever you need me, I promise. Just wear my stupid jumper and remember how lame I am. So lame that I’ll probably be tormenting myself like in those stupid romantic films, staring at the moon and waiting to be with you again." He  
heard Niall choke out a wet laugh. "I’m going to say something really cheesy now, ok? I promise, with everything I am, I promise I won’t let anything bad ever happen to you, and I will always be there when you need me."

Niall squeezed his waist harder, pulling him so close it was as if they were melding into one person. When he finally let go, his face was wet and there was a small wet patch on Liam’s shoulder. He sniffled and wiped his nose of his sleeve.

"That was really cheesy, Liam." He laughed, eyes sparkling, eyelashes wet.

"Yep." He ruffled Niall’s hair playfully. "Now go, before I kidnap you and bring you back to Wolverhampton with me."

Niall snorted but turned to his brother. They nodded, a silent conversation of understanding, and walked to the door, suitcases dragging behind. Niall took one last look in the room, waving with a smile, before disappearing completely. Liam stood their heavily,  
staring at the doorway where the grinning, I rish face had been just seconds before. He could feel the wet spot on his shoulder from Niall’s tears weighing heavily on his skin, as if to remind him that it wasn’t a dream, he was really gone.

An arm slung around his shoulders and he looked to the side. Louis smiled back at him.

"Don’t worry, mate. He’s just going home, he’ll be fine. Three weeks will go by in a flash."

Liam nodded, wanting to believe him.

 

\-----

"You already sound more Irish, babe," Liam chuckled to the screen of his laptop. He sat on his bed, pile of clean laundry to ihs right, folding the clothes into neat piles. Niall laughed and took a sip from his water bottle.

"I have to come back home every once in a while to keep it nice and fresh for you."

Liam chuckled again.

"What did your parents say about visiting?"

"Mmm," Niall swallowed his bite of sandwich and held up a finger. The fact that he had been eating during every single one of their Skype calls didn’t really surprise Liam at all. "They said I can leave on the 29th, spend the last week or so with you and just ride  
with you back to school. I guess they’re going on vacation or something, so they won’t be home anyway."

Liam nodded, setting his shirt on top of the precariously towering stack.

"Liam! Supper’s ready!" His mother’s voice carried through the house. He crawled forward on his bed, reaching for the laptop. "Sorry, bud," he said with an apologetic smile, carrying his computer to his desk on his way to the door.

"No problem, mate," Niall smiled closed mouthed, cheeks full.

"Well, Happy Christmas if I don’t talk to you tomorrow."

"Yeah, Happy Christmas."

——

Liam bounced his knee nervously, eyes scanning the dirty train station. It was littered with cigarette buts and trash, people passing by in a rush, their minds intent on their purpose, and their purpose alone. None of them paid any attention to the boy sitting on a  
bench, elbows on his knees as he leaned forward, chewing the side of his thumb. He had been waiting for Niall to arrive for an hour longer than planned. His fingers twitched to his phone for the millionth time, checking for a message, but to no avail. He had  
tried calling and texting, with no result. As much as he wanted to believe that the plane or train had been delayed and maybe his phone was dead, there was a nagging sensation in the back of his mind; something didn’t feel right.

He flipped to his contacts and pressed Greg’s name, bringing the phone to his ear. It rang twice.

"Hey, Liam. What’s up?" His voice sounded slightly worried, it wasn’t as if Liam called him daily for a friendly chat.

"Hey, Greg. Have you heard from Niall?" He bit his lip.

"No, he left for the airport hours ago. I thought he was supposed to be with you by now."

Yeah, he was but-” He was cut off by the beep of an incoming call. “Can you hold on for a second?”

He switched over to the other line.

"Liam?" Zayn’s voice was nervous, weak, frightened. It made Liam stand up, eyebrows furrowed in worry.

"Zayn? What is it?"

"She has him, Liam. Etain has Niall."

"Shit!" Liam cursed, hand flying to his mouth. He inhaled sharply through his nose, brain screaming. He had promised. He promised Niall he would keep him safe. He told him he would always be there and not he was in trouble and Liam wasn’t with him, wasn’t  
helping him.

"Where?" He managed to ask, forcing his brain to focus, pushing away the pictures of Niall trapped with Etain. Niall being tortured. Niall being raped.

"The usual place," Zayn whispered, breaking through.

"Fuck." Liam screwed his eyes shut, rubbing the heel of his hand against his forehead, thinking. "Alright. Call the boys. We’re going back to school early."

The line went dead and he inhaled through his nose deeply, slowly exhaling through his mouth. Willing himself to sound normal as he greeted the missing boy’s brother once again.

"Ok, I’m back." He could feel Greg’s nervousness through the phone, could practically see him pacing the room and biting his nails. He consciously made his voice more chipped than the situation demanded. If it sounded false, Greg didn’t call him on it.  
"Everything’s fine. I know where he is and I’m going to get him now."

A whoosh of air passed through the speaker of the phone, Greg sighing in relief.

"Ok, well call me if anything happened, will you?"

"Yeah, of course," Liam lied. "Bye, Greg."

"Bye, Liam. And thanks."

Liam pursed his lips as he hung up, swinging around toward the exit. ‘Don’t thank me yet,’ he thought.

 

\-----

Zayn, Harry, and Louis were already sitting at a table in the Nando’s closest to their school. They agreed that actually meeting at the school was probably a bad idea, given that Etain knew where is was and would most likely have it covered with her lackeys.  
Instead, Louis and Harry had driven to Zayn, picked him up, and Liam had chose to meet them here, traveling by train. They stood up as he approached, worried lines etched on their normally youthful features.

"No more news then?" Liam asked Zayn briskly. The boy shook his head in response. "Alright, what’s the plan."

Zayn’s eyes went wide and his mouth fell open.

"I thought- I just thought you’d have made one already, that’s usually your job." He looked down at his shoes, face screwed up in emotional turmoil.

Liam sighed.

"Yeah, for paintball. This is different."

Louis perked up, appearing at Liam’s side. He grabbed his wrist and pulled him to the exit, the other boys following behind. Zayn continued looking at the ground, but Harry had a slight smile on his face, not so much to seem happy, but more… knowing. They  
stopped behind Louis’s car, his hand resting on the latch.

"Perhaps it’s not as different as you think." His wrist twisted, opening the boot.

"Shit, Lou!" He hissed, glancing around to make sure no one saw what was sitting right out in the open. The trunk had five, large black automatic weapons laid out on a blanket. "Where the fuck did you get these?"

"Theater department of my old high school," he chuckled, lifting one easily. "See? Totally fake."

Liam let out a sigh of relief. He mentally kicked himself for ever thinking the boys had managed to get actual weapons and planned on using them on actual people. But then again, they were about to go save his boyfriend- boyfriend?- from a gang led by a  
sickeningly powerful Irish slut, so really, could he be blamed?

"But how are these supposed to help us? We’ll just be shot on sight." Zayn asked, lifting the longest from the boot and squinting through the scope.

"Ahh!" Louis smiled mischievously, handing Harry the gun in his hand and leaning back into the boot of the car, shuffling things around until he found what he was looking for. His face looked almost crazy as he popped out, a bag of small, round balls in his  
hand. "That’s the best part. Harry and I had planned on using these on the students this year, a little prank, you know? We worked on them over the summer. I fixed the guns to be able to blow enough air to actually shoot something out of them, and hard. They  
were just airsoft guns before, rigged to make the noise, but nothing else, but now, with the help of Harry’s ingenious variety of- what shall we say? Bullets? Yes. See?"

He reached his hand into the the bag, pulling out a few of the small marble-like objects and dropping them into a small hole in the back. Stepping away, they watched as Harry raised the gun to his shoulder, squeezing the trigger and shooting the bullets at a  
tree a few meters away. It exploded in a cloud of dust, startling a flock of pigeons around the trunk. Louis laughed and clapped his hands.

"Ok, here’s the thing," he said to them, turning to see their faces. Liam’s eyes were wide and his lips threatened to twitch into a slight smile before remembering why they needed these in the first place. Zayn had a similar expression. "We decided that they were  
a little too dangerous to use on the students, we tested them on strangers in a part once… bad idea. Each colour is something different. I don’t really remember them all but-"

"I do!" Harry perked up, gun in one hand, hanging comfortably at his side. "The white ones are itching powder, thst was that one right there. Be careful with those, they have the thinnest layer around them, so don’t squeeze them. Uhmm… red, that’s hot sauce.  
Nasty stuff. It burns your skin, so don’t squeeze those either."

"Just don’t squeeze any of them," Louis suggested, Harry nodding.

"Blue, that’s glue. It rhymes. It’s super sticky, get’s everywhere too. Green, glass. Tiny little pieces that are bloody difficult to get out of your skin, not many of those… Yellow, piss."

Zayn let out a snort, covering his mouth with his hand.

"Piss, you serious, mate?"

"Very. It’s nasty because these are from the summer." Harry smiled cheekily at Zayn and Liam’s disgusted faces. "I think that’s it, right Boo?"

"Pretty sure," Louis replied, taking the guns from this friends and putting them back in the car, slamming the hood down loudly. "Ok boys, I’ll drive, Liam, you plan."

 

\-----

Harry slid in the backseat with Liam, unusual since his spot next to Louis was normally sacred ground, to be touched by no one. But Zayn was forced there, closing the door just as Louis sped off.

"I’m really sorry, Liam," the young boy nearly whispered. He was looking at Liam with pleading eyes. "I didn’t know she was that bad, I swear."

"Shouldn’t you be apologizing to Zayn?" He asked.

"He did," Zayn turned around, lifting his eyebrows and knitting them together.

"Did you forgive him?"

Zayn nodded lightly and Liam shrugged.

"Then I do too," he said. He felt Harry sigh and sink further back in the seat beside him. The older boy put his hand reassuringly on his knee. "Just try and keep it in your pants next time, alright?"

Harry snorted a laugh and nodded, eyes shining with the hope that his friends wouldn’t abandon him, wouldn’t hold his mistake over his head forever.

"No one can tame the monster that is Barry!" Louis yelled from behind the wheel, glancing at them in the mirror.

"Louis! Don’t talk about Barry with people around!" Harry was smiling, arm laid casually against the back of the seat, behind Liam’s head.

"You just don’t want them to know that Hughie won the sword fight last night," Louis replied cheekily, dramatically winking at the blushing boy beside Liam.

"Oh God, mate, I don’t want to hear that! Please say you’re joking." Zayn’s face screwed up in a mixture of disgust and laughter looking at both Louis and Harry for an answer. They both shrugged. "Am I the only straight one around here?" He muttered under his  
breath.

——

The boys stood behind the car, staring up the hill at the large wrought iron gates that led to the Cowell Prep campus. Zayn leaned against the boot, arms folded, face falling into its normal unwavering mask of indifference. ‘At least he was back to normal,’ Liam  
thought.

Harry and Louis stood facing him, arms around each other’s waists. Liam rubbed his hands together and looked at them all, plan organized neatly in his brain. He had struggled for a moment to translate the intricate map into words, unable to fall back on the  
usual technique of drawing it out for the group. To him it was so simple, but he knew it took explaining for everyone else to understand. It had taken a shorter time than he expected, now all that needed to be done was the action, the execution so to speak.

"Are you sure you understand?" He asked for the millionth time. Zayn rolled his ears and put his hand to the boot latch, flipping it up easily and shifting out of the way as the hood raised.

"Yeah, we got it, mate. No worries!" Louis leaned in with Zayn, pulling out two automatics, a small handgun that had been hidden in the corner, and a few bags of ammo. He kept one big gun for himself, along with a couple of bags and the handgun, giving the  
rest to Harry.

"The little one-" Liam began.

"Is fake too," Louis finished for him, smiling and stuffing it down the back of his pants. "Don’t worry."

Liam took the two guns handed to him by Zayn, strapping one around his back for Niall to use later, if- no WHEN- they got to him. The slimmer boy took out the last, and largest weapon, resting it against his shoulder idley and slamming the boot closed.

"We look so badass," Harry chuckled, adjusting the bags of ammo at his hip.

"Let’s not forget why we’re actually here, eh Hazza?" Liam almost snapped. His fingers trembled as they held the weapon, either itching to use it or wishing he didn’t have to, he wasn’t sure which.

"Alright, give me five minutes." Zayn rushed away, scrambling over the top of the wall and disappearing on the other side. Liam immediately looked at his watch, waiting with bated breath as the time crept by. He was forced to continuously swap which hand held  
his gun, both becoming numb with cold and worry. His minded raced through all the possible scenarios, hoping that the plan he had chosen would work, wishing he had Niall here to help. Without the blonde boy the team was incomplete. But then again, if he  
was with them, they wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place.

He felt a hand fall warmly between his shoulder blades, Louis appearing at his side.

"Three minutes, alright?" He said with a smile, the kind of smile that was meant to reassure him, but only reminded him that there was something he needed reassuring about. The cold began to sink into him as he watched his friends leave, climbing over the  
wall in the same spot as Zayn had earlier. He felt the mental cold more than the physical, the loneliness and worry finally beginning to sink in.

But there was a spark, the tiniest, most minuscule and nearly insignificant spark in his chest as he pictured Etain. His version had nearly translucent skin, stretched across her sharp, bony features like thin latex, threatening to break any moment. Her irises were  
piercing, almost white, with deep, black, pinpoints for pupils. Her white teeth were pointed and her lips too red, her tongue too long as it lashed out to lick them. Her stringy, yellow hair fell in chunks around her angular face, claw-like nails brushing it to the  
side. She wasn’t human to him any more.

He grabbed onto that spark in his chest and held it in the shelter of his heart, away from the blowing winds of his logical brain, coaxing it to grow into a burning fire of hatred. Pure, unadulterated hatred toward this monster that not only threatened them, but  
stole the thing that meant the most to him, right from under his nose.

He gripped his gun tightly in his hand and looked at his watch. The second hand ticked by, slower than it ever had before.

"C’mon, c’mon," he urged it, knees bouncing. His whole body was hot now, blazing with the angry fire. Before his only goal had been to get Niall out safely, but now he knew there was no way he would leave without taking his revenge on Etain first.

He jumped forward as soon as the long, thin hand brushed over the 12. He wanted to sprint, run full force all the way to that dingy, abandoned cabin where he knew Niall was held captive, but he knew he couldn’t he had to follow the plan and not be seen. He  
kept the picture of Niall, helpless, in his mind, feeding the fury in his heart.

He never thought to ask why the boy had been taken.

\-----

His feet hit the soft pad of earth with a thud as he jumped down from the top of the wall. He froze, ears perked up and listening for the sound of approaching footsteps. The wind swayed the trees in the distance, branches groaning and straining against the force threatening to break them. The light dusting of snow muffled the sound of his footsteps as he made his way along the wall quietly.

A shout rang out across the campus, bouncing off the buildings to his ears, nearly making him jump. Another followed soon after, men shouting indistinguishable obscenities at a phantom being. Liam allowed himself a small smile at their tiny victory, but his  
mind quickly turned his attention back on the reason he stood crouched along the wall of his school with a fake gun in his freezing hands. His eyes narrowed and the flame of anger flickered again, urging him on.

The shouts continued behind him, reassuring him that Harry and Louis were doing their part of the plan, distracting the majority of Etain’s men, luring them away from the abandoned cottage to give Liam a better chance of getting Niall out safe. He assumed  
the woman, if she could even be considered one, would be guarding Niall herself, a fact that Liam may have relished a bit too much. Zayn was watching them from above, clearing a path for him and covering every one’s backs. While it was a reassuring thought,  
none of the boys had been sure just what kind of weapons the other side would have. This wasn’t paintball, this was dangerous. Any one of them could be shot or stabbed or whatever else by one of these men at any point. Their best bet was to keep them as  
confused and distracted and get Niall out as quickly as possible.

Liam came upon the border of the trees, crouching low and scanning the forest with his eyes. A twig branched to his right and he raised his gun to his shoulder, flattening his back against a tree. Two men were jogging in the direction of their carefully planned  
distraction, faces set in determination. Liam held his breath, gun held tight to his chest.

"Hold on," one of the men mumbled, slowing his pace, stopping a few meters behind the hiding boy.

"What is it?" The other asked.

"You go ahead," the first one replied, standing still. Liam didn’t dare turn in their direction, didn’t dare breathe too heavily, if at all. He heard shuffling, most likely the other man running off, and then silence. Not the beautiful, quiet silence of when you’re alone,  
but the buzzing, tense silence of when you aren’t. The air hummed with it, stagnant, he could hear the pounding of his blood in his ears, breaking his concentration. It was almost as if the silence was so loud, it was keeping him from hearing any noise his  
opponent made.

*crunch*

There it was, the tiniest sound of the man’s foot against the frozen ground. Liam’s heart slowed, his light breathing deepened, he closed his eyes, focusing on the noise. He created the woods in his mind, every tree, bush, twig on the ground. His ethereal world  
becoming clearer the more the man moved. He followed him in his mind, mapping out ever tiny noise until he knew he had a clear shot.

Spinning around the tree he fired two shots directly into the man’s bare face. Time seemed to slow as Liam watched the ammunition fly out of his gun, the man’s eyes slowly widening at the sight of his gun and fiery eyes. The two shots sailed through the air,  
hitting his face with a splatter and a puff of white. At first, the man stood in shock. Once he realized he wasn’t lying dead on the ground he made a move toward Liam. The boy stood, raising his gun in preparation to shoot him again, but it wasn’t necessary. The man was stopped short, hand flying to his face, covered in a sticky residue and plastered in white dusk.

"What the fuck," he gasped, ripping at his face. The action did nothing to rid him of the torturous itching, merely spreading it around to his neck and hands. He yelled angrily, fighting between going after Liam and ridding himself of the feeling that his skin was  
shriveling and twisting on his face.

The boy backed away, eyebrows furrowing at the man, falling to his knees, in front of him. He winced as the man’s yells became higher pitched, began to run as the man begged for release. His feet beat against the ground, he wasn’t trying to stay hidden any  
more, he was trying to get as far away as possible from the screams of agony behind him. He desperately tried to cover his ears and block the noise, but the gun in his hand prevented him from doing so. He ran until his lungs burned with every ragged inhale of  
the freezing night air, until his eyes watered from the stinging cold, until the screams were a distant memory.

What had he done? How could he do that to another human being? Cause so much pain? His back rested on the trunk of a large tree. He slid down to crouch on the balls of his feet, dropping his gun and burying his face in his hands. Everything was so  
confusing, so different than what he was used to. The world had turned upside down and inside out over a matter of months. He was risking his life and the life of his friends for another man. A man that made him willing to risk anything to see him safe. A man  
that made him crazy with worry and anxiety and happiness and love. A man that was worth it, right?

His head shot up and his hands retrieved his gun at the sound of pounding footsteps running passed him. He did his best to hide in the shadows, not wanting to face them, not wanting to be forced to do what he had just done. He watched as three men ran  
passed, waiting until they were far out of earshot before heading in the direction they came.

He hadn’t walked more than two minutes before coming upon the backside of the cottage he had seen twice before. There were lights on inside, though it looed as decrepit as alsways, roof threatening to cave and walls rotten and moldy. Gripping his gun  
tightly, he crept up to the window and peered in. He sighed in relief when he saw Niall sitting up straight in the chair, back to him, hands roped together. He was conscious, and not too hurt, from what Liam could see.

The flame of anger in his heart flickered and roared to life as Etain’s slim figure draped itself over the blonde boy’s body, leaning her face close. Niall turned his away, leaning his head back to get as far away from her as possible. Liam couldn’t watch any more.  
He left his post and made his way to the front of the hut, no other guards in sight. Taking one deep breath, he raised his foot and kicked the door in, breaking the latch on the other side and startling Etain off Niall’s lap. His skin burned with hatred as he saw  
her again.

The real Etain didn’t look like the one he had created in his head, softer angles, flowing hair, blue eyes, but this only made Liam’s heart burn hotter, anger eating him from the inside, flames flashing in his light brown eyes. One glance at Niall only made the  
flames leap higher. The boy’s nose was rimmed with dried blood, a bruise dark purple against the pale skin of his cheek. Liam raised his gun to his shoulder and aimed it directly at Etain.

"Cut him loose," he growled, eyes narrowing. A glint of fear flashed in Etain’s eyes as she stared into the barrel of his gun. Her hands trembled as she stood behind Niall, covering her vital organs, but not her head. She chuckled humorlessly.

"Are you going to shoot me?"

"If you don’t let him go, yes, yes I will." His voice was low and rumbling, deadly serious, not wavering. She didn’t know that while his gun wouldn’t kill her, it would hurt, agonizingly. He felt a rush of calm over him as he watched her trembling at his mercy.

"You’re bluffing," she said.

"Are you willing to risk it?" He cocked his head to the side and smirked. She swallowed and fumbled with the rope on Niall’s hands, releasing him. Liam felt relief flood his veins, cooling the angry flames in his heart, soothing him. His grip on his gun slackened  
as Niall took a step toward him, beaming. It had been so easy.

Or so he thought. Etain’s claw-like fingernails pulled Niall back by his hair, gripping into his skull. He flew back to her, arms flailing as he tried to right himself. She rested his head on her shoulder, holding a small handgun to his temple.

"Bitch," Liam exhaled, aiming the gun at her face, swiftly.

"Ah, ah, ah," she warned, white teeth flashing. She rubbed her cheek on Niall’s hair, the boy struggling in her grip. "You wouldn’t want me to blow his brains out, would you?"

She smiled, eyes manic, as he seethed before her. Niall whimpered as the gun pressed further into his temple, her nails biting further into his flesh. A single tear rolled down his cheek, over the purple bruise, to drip off his chin and onto the dirty floor.

"What do you want, Etain?" Liam asked through gritted teeth, not lowering the gun from its aim on her pale features.

"Not much," she shrugged. "Just both of you. In my possession. Until I get bored with you."

He laughed, a harsh burst of sound with no happiness in it whatsoever.

"Over my dead body," he spat.

"That can be arranged. Though I admit, I planned this to get both of you, but if one has to be sacrificed for the other…" She trailed off, tugging Niall’s hair again, a drop of dark red blood dripping from his nose.

"It’s fine, Liam," he whispered, eyebrows furrowed in pain. He looked at Liam pointedly, as if trying to tell him something, but the boy didn’t understand. "Someone is watching over us. Don’t worry."

Liam opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted. A splatter of red-ish orange liquid spread over Etain’s face, making her lose her grip on both Niall and her gun. She stumbled backward, screaming, at first in anger, but when the burning hot sauce found  
its way into her eyes, her screams turned to pain. Much like the man in the woods, she dropped to her knees, rubbing at her face uselessly.

Zayn burst through the door, picking up the gun and standing over the woman, guarding her. Liam barely had time to send him a smile of thanks before Niall’s warm body embraced his, chin resting on his shoulder.

"I’m so sorry, Nialler," he whispered into his neck. "I’m so, so sorry."

"It’s ok, Liam, it’s ok." Niall’s hand was petting his hair.

"I should have been with you, I promised."

Niall pulled back and looked at him, eyes wet, bruise bright, blood still dripping from his nose. “You came back for me.”

They smiled. Liam used his sleeve to wipe the blood from Niall’s upper lip, but the boy pushed his hand away.

"Don’t ruin your coat," he chuckled, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

"Not to ruin your moment guys," Zayn interrupted. "But what do you want to do with her?"

Etain’s face was stained orange, eyes watering at the sting which seemed to have gone down enough for her to stop screaming in agony. Liam’s heart smoldered, the ashes of his burning anger stirred at the sight of her. He walked over, gun raised in his right  
hand and aimed it directly at her left eye. He heard her whimper, but didn’t care.

"Let’s give her a choice," he said, eyes narrowed and voice low once again. "What do you say, Etain? We hand you over to the cops with a complete list of all of the laws you have broken with five eye witnesses, or you take a change with my little gun here. It’s not  
lethal, no real bullets, and I’m not sure if there’s any ammo left, so you might get lucky."

He cocked his head and raised his eyebrows.

"Come on, mate," Zayn said, hand on his elbow. "Let’s just get the cops."

"No." He ripped his arm away, fire blazing in his heart again, stronger than before. He felt a sick sort of glee at seeing her whimper with fear beneath the barrel of his gun, knowing that her future rested on his shoulders. He could just pull the trigger and *BAM*

A green ball shot from the gun, directly into her startled blue eye, exploding in a shower of clear glass shards that sparkled betraying in the light. Looking, at first, like a cloud of pixie dust, caressing her cheek until it ripped at her face and eye, making her scream and bleed, thrashing on the floor in pain as he stood watching, laughing at her pain.

A shiver ran up his spine and he lowered the gun, Etain’s fully intact face sighing in relief. Niall’s hand grasped his tightly and he turned to look at him. The blonde boy shook his head and tugged his hand. He nodded, turning back to the woman on the floor  
and kneeling to her level, staring into her eyes.

"You’re lucky Niall is so forgiving," he whispered. "You’re free to go on one condition. Never, ever, go after someone like you did to us ever again. If you do, I will find you, and I’ll make sure to leave Niall behind so he can’t stop me."  
She nodded weakly and he smiled, patting her cheek before standing again, wrapping his arm around Niall’s waist and moving his lips to the boy’s ear.

"Thank you for stopping me," he sighed, resting his forehead against Niall’s temple. The Irishman laughed and steered them behind Zayn to the exit.

 

"I knew you would regret it later."

\-----

There mild celebration didn’t last for long. They made their way carefullly back through the woods toward the campus. Liam handed over the gun that had been slung over his back and a bag of the small, marble-like bullets to a wary looking Niall, explaining what they did.

"Just in case," he reassured the boy as he took the weapon hesitantly.

They climbed to the roof of the dining hall, crossing the buildings as they had the nights they took their mignight runs. Zayn held the board steady as they scrambled across, guns strapped across their backs, bags of bullets bumping agains their thighs. The  
wind had nearly ceased entirely, the air cold and still. Their trek across the roof tops was short and they sat overlooking the main courtyard, hidden behind the roof ledge. A few men were huddled in the center, holding their faces in pain, others chasing the two  
boys who danced around them like phantoms, shooting whenever one got too close, laughing as the men ran away, covering their prone faces.

Zayn put two fingers to his lips and whistled loudly, cutting through the thin air of winter. All of the faces turned toward them, searching the sky for the origin of the noise. They stood, silhouettes against the bright moonlight at their backs. Niall waved to Harry  
and Louis, who waved back with bright smiles.

"Surrender," the dark boy yelled to the men huddled together, a few daring to point guns in their direction.

"You’re just a bunch of punk ass kids," one of the beefier men called out, thrusting his pistol in their direction.

"A bunch of punk ass kids that just took out your leader and have had you running in circles for an hour," Niall laughed at them. The boys joined in, throwing their heads back. Their laughter bounced off the buildings, echoing and echoing until it sounded like  
one hundred boys mocking the so-called hitmen.

A shot cracked through the air. A real shot, not fired by one of their fake stage weapons, but by the pistol in the fat man’s chbby hand, the lethal bullet flying. The sound startled them out of their laughter, making all five boys jump. Niall nearly began to smile  
again when he felt Liam slump beside him.

"Liam?" He turned, barely managing to wrap a gentle hand behind the boy’s neck before he stumbled to the ground. His voice was soft, pleading as he held the man who had gone through so much to save his life. A lump sat heavily in his throat. "Liam, what’s  
wrong?"

The boy had his hand on his gut, eyes wide in shock, eyebrows furrowed in pain. His slack mouth let out a low moan, squeaking as he tried to inhale. Head rolling onto his shoulder heavily, his free hand grasped at Niall, gripping his arm with crushing strength.  
Tears formed once again in the blonde boy’s eyes, but this time they weren’t for his own pain. Kneeling heavily on the ground, he pulled Liam into his arms, one arm cradling his head and tangling his rough fingers through the boy’s soft hair. He hunched over,  
trying to shield Liam from the cruel world that had done this to him, trying to wrap him in the warmth and happiness that they had felt only moments before. His thumb stroked the boy’s forehead, beading with sweat despite the freezing air.

"Oh God, oh God," he whispered, voice catching against the lump in his throat, the lump that he couldn’t swallow, that wouldn’t go away. "Liam, oh God, Liam. Are you ok? Liam?"

The boy’s eyebrows furrowed further, his mouth opening and closing as if unable to for any sound but the pathetic squeaks of air that managed to escape. Zayn was at his side, he was talking to him, talking to Niall, talking to anyone who would give him a God  
damn answer.

"Fuck!" He his, ripping his phone from his pocket, jabbing 999 and holding the phone to his ear, free hand covering the one on Liam’s gut. "Keep pressure on it Niall. Niall! Don’t let him bleed out, mate! Fuck!"

He jumped up as someone answered the line, Niall didn’t pay attention, he pressed his hand over Liam’s staring into his agonized brown eyes. Liam had never felt pain before. Not like this. He hadn’t felt anything at first, nothing but the force that pushed him  
backwards. Not until he put his hand to the area, feeling the hot sticky fluid coating through he coat. His brain fizzled, like it was being soaked in a vat of sparkling water. His stomach burned as though someone was stabbing it with a burning knife over and  
over and over and-

Niall’s voice cut through the blackness creeping in on his vision. He tried to tell him to stop, tried to tell him to just let him sleep, but no words would come. The bright blue eyes above him were glistening with water, tears threatening to spill over, tears because  
of him. The second time he had failed Niall, broken his promise. He said he would always be there to protect ihm, but here he was, laying down, doing nothing.

Liam tried to stand, tried to push himself up, but Niall held fast, holding him closer.

"Sshh, sshh, sshh," he kissed into Liam’s sweat soaked hair. "Don’t move Liam, don’t move."

"Niall, Liam, Zayn what’s going on? What ha-" Louis and Harry burst through the door onto the roof, locking it behind them and asking questions, not quite understanding with had happened. Niall was too consumed with Liam to notice them, placing soft kissed  
in his hair, on his forehead, cheek, nose, eyelids, where ever he could reach, muttering encouragements.

"Stay with me, babe. I can’t lose you. You’ll be fine, everything will be fine. Just stay with me," he stuttered, attempting a smile, tears dripping from his cheeks onto the larger boy’s face. He hastily wiped them away with a bloodied hand, cursing as streaks of red  
appeared on Liam’s pained features.

He wasn’t sure how long it took the paramedics to arrive, but it took all three of his friends to tear him from Liam’s unconscious body, throat hoarse from the tears, scratched from screaming as they dragged the boy out the door and down the stairs, away from  
him, out of his sight. They had only been together and happy again for such a short time. They couldn’t take him away, they couldn’t!

"NO!" He screamed again, tearing at the strong arms that pulled him toward the car they had arrived in and away from the ambulance where the doors were closing, locking Liam away. "LIAM! LIAM!"

His body wracked with sobs as he curled into Zayn’s embrace, Louis speeding them behind the ambulance. His nose was running and his throat screamed with pain, raw from his shouts. His head felt heavy, his heart weak, he felt sleep clouding his thoughts and  
he fought it as long as he could but exhaustion from being kidnapped and beaten and forced to watch the man who meant the most to him in the entire world suffer won out, shutting his body down for rest and repair as the four boys raced to the hospital.

 

\-----

Niall sat in the uncomfortable plastic chair by the hospital bed, clutching Liam’s limp hand in both of his. The persistent beeping of the heart monitor and the unconscious boy’s deep breathing were the only noises in the room. Zayn stood on the other side of the bed, chewing nervously on the side of his thumb, Louis and Harry tangled together in the larger chair against the wall. Occasionally they would whisper, voices hushed and worried, eyes darting to Niall’s pained face.

They had rushed to the hospital, Zayn nudging Niall awake as they pulled in. The nurse at the counter had been flustered and startled when the four boys had stormed in, demanding to know where their friend was. After an eternity of typing in the computer  
and flipping through papers the woman had revealed that he was in emergency surgery. Zayn had taken it upon himself to fill in the necessary paperwork and make the difficult phone call to Liam’s mother. The Irishman had been a wreck, hands clutching at his  
blonde hair, hunched over, rocking back and forth. Louis had tried to rub soothing circled into his back, but the boy hadn’t responded. It wasn’t until an hour later, when the nurse came in and told them that Liam was out of surgery, that the boy had made any  
move from his position.

He had jumped, rushing forward toward the doors to the recovery rooms, without waiting for permission or even for the nurse to tell him the room number. The boys raced after him, Harry asking the flustered woman the number quickly, catching up to Niall  
and relaying the information.

Despite his initial haste to reach Liam, Niall stopped when he reached the door, hesitant to enter. He had stood there, staring where two lumps protruded from the perfectly made end of the bed, the only bit visible from the doorway. His ragged intake of breath  
had seemed to bounce off the walls and back to his ears as if he and the unconscious Liam were the only two people in the hospital, the steady beeping and deep breathing the only signs of life. He had closed his eyes and took the first step, crossing the  
threshold.

Liam’s face had been placid, medicine dripping through the IV, into his hand, coursing through his veins to relieve him of the agonizing pain in his abdomen. Niall had rushed to him immediately, standing at his side and taking his hand, brushing his damp hair  
from his forehead, eyebrows furrowed and the cornerd of his mouth turned downward. The others had never seen him frown before. His legs had grown tired and Louis forced him to sit, pushing a chair to the edge of the bed so his hands never lost contact  
with Liam’s. So there he was, staring at Liam’s face, holding his limp hand, willing him to open his eyes and smile, saying: Surprise! I fooled you! But he didn’t. He laid there helplessly, chest rising and falling slowly, the steady beeping keeping time.

A gasp came from the doorway, drawing every one’s attention but Niall’s his eyes locked to Liam. The boy’s mother stood, hand covering her mouth, tears in her eyes. Shaking her head she walked to the bed, brushing her hand over Liam’s forehead. Louis and  
Harry left their seat, the older boy placing a gentle hand on Zayn’s shoulder, all three of them leaving the room. The remaining two sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the irritatingly constant sounds of the hospital room.

"You’re Niall, aren’t you?" She broke the silence with a soft voice, almost inaudible. He swallowed, nodding.

"He talked about you all the time, you know." She sniffled, lips pursed and chin wobbling. "Every time he called home. He always talked about your smile."

She paused, waiting for him to look at her. He dragged his eyes to her damp face, forehead creased with worry.

 

"I’d like to see it," she added. He attempted a watery smile, but his lips trembled and water collected in his eyes, threatening to betray him. He turned his head swiftly back to the boy on the bed.

"You should have seen him, right before he left to pick you up from the station. I’ve never seen his eyes so light, his smile so wide. You know how his eyes squint and he pushes his eyebrows up when he’s really happy?" She choked out a wet laugh. "God. My  
baby. How did this even happen."

Niall wasn’t sure if she was talking to him anymore, or just talking, but his stomach tumbled over itself, sickened with guilt. He looked at her, her eyes closed, hand covering her mouth, tears soaking her cheeks. He couldn’t bear to see her in so much pain, this  
woman he had never met, this woman who loved the same boy he did, just as much. He opened his mouth to speak just as she sighed, cutting him off.

"I’m going to talk to the doctor." She briskly wiped her face with her hands and left the room, leaving him alone, mouth still open, words stuck in his throat. He closed it with a sigh and dropped his head to the bed, resting his warm forehead on the cool skin of  
Liam’s hand. He let his mind wander to those months before this whole ordeal began.

He remembered one particular night, when the wind whistled through the cracks of the windows and rain beat against the glass, thunder shaking the building. Niall wasn’t necessarily afraid of thunderstorms, but he had been especially homesick and upset and  
alone on his bunk so high in the air. A crash of thunder had him scrambling down the ladder and next to Liam’s bed.

"Liam," he had whispered, crouching low. "Liam."

"Mmm," the boy had replied sleepily.

"Can I sleep with you tonight?"

Liam had crack open an eye to look at his pleading face and lifted the covers, inviting him in. He had snuggled close, pressing his bare back against Liam’s warm chest, the boy’s hand curling around his waist protectively, mouth kissing his spine. Niall had felt so  
loved, so safe in Liam’s embrace. He had never slept so soundly as he did when he snuggled close to Liam’s broad chest, clinging to his strong arms, his fingers playing in his hair.

Niall’s eyes shot open, he could feel fingers tugging and gliding through his locks, the same way Liam’s always did. He lifted his head, eyes toward the boy’s face. Liam stared at him, smiling, hand still tangled in his hair.

"Hey Nialler," he smiled. Niall jumped from his chair, leaning over the boy’s face, beaming.

"Liam!" He cried, eyes sparkling with happiness again. He grabbed the boy’s face and smashed their lips together roughly, smiling. Liam groaned against him, but not in a way that said he wanted more. Niall backed off.

"Be gentle with me, I was just shot," Liam chuckled weakly. The blonde boy laughed ecstatically, grabbing the other boy’s hand and kissing it. He stared into Liam’s brown eyes, dark circles under his eyes and his skin slightly pale.

"I love you," he burst out in a rush, chest heaving. They had never said it before, not like this. Not when there was no way to misinterpret it as a friendly jest. Not when they were alone and the world around them was silent but for the soft beeping of the heart  
monitor.

\-----

The heart monitor began to beep faster, Niall’s eyes shooting to see the thin, green line sporadically jump across the screen. Liam’s heart was out of control, beating against his chest loudly, almost painfully. His skin felt hot and tingling, as if it was laced with electricity. He focused on taking deep breaths, losing himself in the crystalline blue eyes that stared, concerned, down at him. Each breath slowing his erratic heart.

"I love you too." The machine let out another flurry of small beeps before settling back into its monotonous rhythm. A slow smile crept back onto Niall’s lips, his blue eyes sparkling.

"Liam?" Zayn’s voice queried from the dorframe, both boys turned to look at him. His eyes rimmed red and his nails had been bitten short, tiny smears of blood gathering on the corners. His lips curled up as he rushed to the bedside, trembling hands reaching  
for Liam’s. Niall let go and took a step back, bright grin on his face as he watched the two friends.

Zayn bent over, pressing his lips on the boy’s forehead, closing his eyes and squeezing the large hand in both of his.

"I’m so sorry," he whispered. Liam squeezed his hand back.

"Don’t be," the boy said, shaking his head and searching Zayn’s eyes. He looked so crushed, so small and weak compared to his usual strong mask of indifference. Liam knew that he was one of the, perhaps, ten people in the world who had seen this part of  
Zayn, perhaps less than even that. He hid himself away from the world, not letting people in, not letting people see him vulnerable, bottling everything up. Perhaps he had finally snapped.

But even as he thought it, Zayn’s eyes began to light up once again, a small smile on his lips.

Harry and Louis rushed into the room after him, waiting until he was finished before approaching. Louis was first, skipping up to the bed and embracing the aching boy in a crushing hug. He peppered kisses on his face, beaming.

"Louis, Lou, stop," Liam chuckled, batting him weakly away. Louis jumped back, stroking the boy’s face gently.

"My beautiful Liam," he cooed. "I’m so glad you’re not dead."

"Yeah, me too. But Louis," even as his face grew serious, his eyes continued to wrinkle happily at the edges, cloudy from the pain medicine pumping through his system. "Never, ever use those guns on students."

Louis chuckled and nodded, kissing the back of his hand once before sliding away to make room for Harry, the boy staring, ashamed, at his feet. Liam smiled and opened his arms. Harry beamed and rushed the remaining distance into his arms.

"Oof!" Liam groaned at the impact. Harry jumped back, eyes full of worry, but the injured boy just chuckled. "Don’t worry, mate, just a little sore."

"I’m glad to see you’re ok."

Liam could see the guilt and sadness lingering at the edges of Harry’s eyes. He blamed himself for what had happened, but so did Zayn, and so did Niall. It was no one’s fault. Who could have known that Etain was that insane, or that powerful? No, Liam didn’t  
blame the young boy, not for a second. He had forgiven him before the battle wound, he wouldn’t take that back now that he was in pain a bit of pain.

Unfortunately the bit of pain was growing from a dull ache to a searing throb, making him suck in a breath. He turned to Niall and took his hand, pulling his face down to whisper in his ear.

 

"Call the nurse."

The Irishman nodded, pulling Zayn with him, the other two following, out into the hall. Liam’s mother rushed to them, saw their smiles and quickly changed directions, bolting into the room and running to his bedside. Niall relayed Liam’s message to the nurse  
sitting at her station with a clipboard, who nodded and rushed in, calling a few others to accompany her.

Niall watched as Zayn’s face seemed to slowly build itself back into something recognizable. By the time they reached the cafeteria, he had his arm slung casually over the Irishman’s shoulders, chuckling as Harry and Louis attempted to can-can while walking.

"It’s not your fault, you know." He nudged the slim boy in the side, catching his eye. "None of it is."

A silent understanding passed between them. Niall wasn’t just talking about Liam, he meant everything. All of the things that had piled onto Zayn’s shoulders over the passed few months, Harry sleeping with Etain, Niall getting kidnapped and tortured, Liam’s  
bullet wound. None of it was because of him. For some reason it made it better, hearing it from Niall. If he could forgive him, perhaps Zayn could forgive himself.

Zayn nodded, squeezing his shoulders tightly and kissing his temple.

"You’re a great guy, Nialler. Take care of my boy, will you?"

He didn’t give Niall a chance to answer, letting him go and falling into step beside Louis, up to the counter. Niall bounced behind, wrapping an arm around Harry’s slim waist. The younger boy glanced at him with a grateful smile, squeezing him back.

——

"Can I see it again?" Niall asked, sitting beside Liam on the injured boy’s bed, playing with his fingers. Liam sighed, but smiled, and used his free hand to tug up the hem of his light t-shirt. The angry red wound that had decorated his sculpted stomach had  
turned pink and smoothed over. It bumped up slightly on his tanned skin. Niall reached out a hand, his other tangled in Liam’s fingers, to caress it lightly. His fingertips ghosted over the scar, barely brushing against it, goosebumps following in their wake.

Liam smiled down at Niall, eyes filled with wonder despite the fact that he had watched the wound heal over the passed two weeks. The boy had been released a few days after the incident, Niall rarely leaving his side during, and after, his stay at the hospital. He  
had slept in the plastic chairs, positioning his body uncomfortably so he could rest his head on the bed, until Liam had taken pity on him and let him crawl into the hospital bed beside him.

Once Liam had been discharged, the Irishman followed him home like a puppy, refusing the previously prepared guests bedroom in favour of the injured boy’s bed. He would stroke Liam’s arms and hair and face, but his favourite place was the slowly healing  
scar on his stomach. At fist it had been too sensitive, he would circle it lovingly, never actually touching the injury. But now it was nearly completely healed and he couldn’t keep his hands off it.

They would sit beside each other at dinner and the boy would deliberately eat with his left hand so his right could snake under Liam’s shirt and rest against the spot he had deemed his.

One morning Liam had woken first, gently leaving the bed so to not wake the sleeping boy. He entered the kitchen and began to prepare himself some toast and eggs, adding a few extra he was sure Niall would steal once he woke up. Gentle hands had slid  
around his sides, a head resting on his shoulder and a bare chest pressing into his back. He felt the rough pad of Niall’s thumb stroke his scar lovingly.

He didn’t like other people looking or touching it, even his mom hadn’t seen it very often. But for some reason, whenever Niall would stroke it or kiss it, it would send shivers up his spine, his hair standing on end. It was like the scar belonged to him, it was his.  
And in a way, it almost was. Liam couldn’t explain it, but there was something about that night two weeks ago that had changed their relationship. It was still loving and joyful and pleasant, but underneath it there was a sense of need, of passion. As if their  
brushes with death had made them realize that they didn’t have forever. They were mortals. Life could end at any second and there would always be things they wished they had said, or wished they had done.

Niall snuggled closer, Liam letting go of his hand to lay his arm under the boy’s blonde head, idly playing with his hair.

"It’s like a battle scar," Niall said after some time. "Imagine what the boys at school will think of you after they find out you were shot. You may take Zayn’s place as resident badass."

Liam chuckled.

"I would never," he gasped dramatically. The truth was, despite how Zayn had appeared in the hospital, like he would never pull himself back to where he was before, he had, and more. He held an air of importance when he walked, like everything he did had a  
purpose. Perhaps he wasn’t exactly as he was before. People saw that he cared for his boys now, that he would do anything to protect them, and that was far more terrifying than his prior, indifferent attitude had ever been. So no, Liam wouldn’t be the one to  
take Zayn’s position from him He would sit back quietly, as he always had, and try to keep the boys from trouble.

Niall chuckled against his side, turning his face up to look at Liam. For the first time since he had woken, he saw a flash of sadness in the boy’s bright eyes.

"I thought I’d lost you," he whispered softly, bringing a hand to Liam’s face. The callused pads of his fingers traced his jaw and nose, brushed over his soft lips. The boy’s eyebrows furrowed and his forehead creased in a way it rarely did. "When I saw you fall andyou were making that terrible noise… all I could think was; he’ll never know what he meant to me. Then they took you away and we had to wait in that horrible room. I was going crazy. Even once they let us see you, finally, you were sleeping. All I could think was: he’ll never know how my heart stops whenever he’s around, and how I can’t stop smiling. And how I always feel safe when he’s around and how ever time I feel nervous or upset, he’s around. How my skin tingles whenever he touches me. How he is all I can think about. You would never know any of that. You would never know that I have fallen so deeply in love with you that it’s impossible to ever get out. When I saw you open your eyes, I needed you to know. I couldn’t wait, but all I could say was: I love you."

He stopped, eyes watering. Liam pulled him close, despite the dull ache in his side. Niall shifted to lay half of his body on the other boy’s and wrap his arms around his body, nuzzling his head into the boy’s broad chest.

"You said all of that, just with the ‘I love you.’ I knew what you meant. You’re not getting rid of me. I made a promise, remember?"

Niall chuckled into his chest before looking up. He stretched his neck and pressed a light kiss on Liam’s smiling lips.

"I love you," he whispered against them, shifting up to sit more comfortably.

"I love you too."

Liam pressed his hands on Niall’s face, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. The boy sighed into his mouth, aligning their bodies as if they were meant to always fit together seamlessly, like two pieces of the same person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there you go. There is a sequel I will be uploading at some point but I wanted to just get all of this in one spot. If you don't know me, you can find me at shibbi.tumblr.com or more of my stories at fanfictionandotherstories.tumblr.com


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